


Ed and Russell at the End of the Universe

by HazelBite



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Milliways, Role-Playing Games
Genre: Community: milliways_bar, Emotional Constipation, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, Post-Movie, Post-Series Pre-Movie, Rating will change, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, new character!, pre-shamballa, red water plot, will add characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 75,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBite/pseuds/HazelBite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed and Russell have to meet at the end of the universe in order to move forward. A role-play style fic edited for readability. Cameos made by brothers and characters from other worlds. See author's note for more details.</p><p>-----------------</p><p>An introduction to Russell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This piece will most likely require more background information as chapters are posted. For now, just know that this is the introduction to Russell as part of a role play at Milliways Bar. 
> 
> I co-wrote with Mandy as Ed while I wrote Russell. But this prologue is all my writing.
> 
> The Milliways role play community is based on the Milliways from Douglas Adams' Restaurant at the End of the Universe. This is a multi-verse role play, so characters from other fandoms may appear later (mine only for now).
> 
> Rating will get higher, Ed shows up later, this will be chaptered.
> 
> We had such a great story at Milliways, it was some of the most exciting writing I've ever done that I want to share it with everyone else!

"Brother!" 

The voice from the other side of the door startled Russell awake. He bolted upright and rubbed the indentation on his face that he had gotten from napping on top of a book.

"Did you fall asleep over your research again, brother?"

Russell hastily pushed his hair out of his eyes and stood up, walking over to the door. There was no point in denying it, Fletcher would know he was lying anyway.

"Doesn't matter, I'm awake now," Russell said as he opened the door. "What is it?"

"Dinner's ready...and I know you skipped breakfast _and_ lunch because everything was where I left it this morning."

"Fletcher, you know how important this research is and if I don't finish it..." Russell paused at the look on his younger brother's face. "I'm sorry for ignoring you so much, I really am, but once I become a state alchemist everything will be better."

"I know, brother," Fletcher said quietly, "I'm just worried about you."

Russell grinned and ruffled Fletcher's hair as they headed toward the kitchen. "Don't be, I'll be fine."

Fletcher ducked away from Russell, "Brother! You know I hate it when you do that!" but Fletcher was smiling as usual and Russell figured he should take a break anyway, he had a long night ahead of him.

"We'll be able to start the experiment tomorrow, if I have everything set properly."

Fletcher set the plates of food on the table in front of them. He was quiet for a moment as they sat down.

"It's going to be another all-nighter, then?" Fletcher asked quietly, not accusing, just curious.

Russell raised his eyebrows at Fletcher. "Of course. I've got a few last minute things to work on."

"Right."

Even though Fletcher didn't show it, Russell knew that he didn't approve of the all night research sessions. He had already had them three nights in a row now.

They ate in silence with the occasional meowing of Puffy as she curled around their ankles looking for treats.

"I'll get these," Fletcher said as Russell stood up to help him clear the table. "Better let you get back to work," and though his shoulders were a bit slumped as he turned his back to Russell, he sounded quite cheerful.

Russell hesitated, feeling guilty about letting his brother do all the chores that he never complained about doing.

"It's fine, you have more important things to do," Fletcher smiled sincerely as he turned to look at his brother.

As Russell left the kitchen, he told himself that after he became a state alchemist, things would be much easier for the both of them. They would have a steady income and more money to spend on research. The search for the cure for red water disease was at a standstill right now and Russell hoped that the experiment they planned to start tomorrow would help greatly.

Russell sighed and opened the door to his room.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell arrives in the bar at the end of the universe. He is greeted by a familiar face and emotions run high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written in a role playing style although I've tried to edit it to make it read smoothly. Ed is written by Mandy and I wrote Russell. Post-series finale.

Russell doesn't notice where he is at first, with his head down as he closes the door behind him. But when he turns to walk toward his desk, he stops abruptly at the sight of a bar full of people in front of him where his bedroom should have been.  
  
He stands silent for a moment and stares, eyebrows raised, sure that he must be imagining things.  
  
Russell steps backward to lean against the closed door and reaches around for the doorknob, certain that if he went back out and came back in, there would be no bar and he could blame this hallucination on his over worked, sleep deprived mind. When he can't find the handle, he turns around to a blank wall where the door had been only seconds ago. He runs his hands frantically over the wall hoping that it would suddenly appear and wondering why it was even gone in the first place.  
  
It had to be to alchemy. It was the only explanation for a door turning into a wall. If only he had something to draw an array with, then escaping wouldn't be so much of a problem. But he wasn’t carrying any chalk on him and now Russell was stuck in this hallucination, hoping that it was only because he had fallen asleep at his desk again. After all, his room hadn't been a bar earlier that day.

&&&

Oh, _no._ No, no, no. And maybe just repeat it again: NO.  
  
Ed wanted people from his world to be here. He wanted to run into familiar faces. But this one was never supposed to be in the cards.  
  
There are a few choices for reaction here. The most tempting one is to ignore him, and continue to do so for as long as possible. But the guy looks more than a little confused, and maybe _that_ is something not worth missing.  
  
So he plays it by ear.  
  
Ed marches right over, intending to be cool about all of this at first. But as soon as he gets over there, his mouth totally runs faster than his brain and he ends up saying, more than a little loudly...  
  
"I _knew_ it. You always have to crowd in on my gigs!"

Russell doesn't even think about the fact that Ed has been missing and no one knows what happened to him. But here he is, accusing him of...well, of something. Russell can't let that go, of course.  
  
" _Your_ gigs? Last time I checked this was supposed to be _my_ room, so it would be _you_ who is trespassing, yet again! …and what have you done to the door?"

What the hell, who is Russell to accuse _Ed_?  
  
"I didn't do anything to the door!" Ed motions at it, not really thinking about what his statement might possibly mean. "It's right there, you idiot."  
  
He pauses, as the other part sinks in.  
  
"AND I AM NOT TRESPASSING!"

"You know just as well as I do that the door is gone, and since you're the only other one here who can make it disappear, it had to have been you!"  
  
Russell stops, realizing something. He blinks. Something's wrong here.  
  
"Wait. _This_ is where you've been hiding while everyone thinks you're dead?" Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"I DID NOT MAKE IT -- " Ed trails off from his defense of himself, his mouth open for a moment as he comprehends Russell's _other_ statement, " -- wait, who thinks I'm dead?"  
  
He's not really sure, himself, that he's _not_ dead, so he can't contradict that. But at least he can find out what the hell is going on.

Russell doesn't say anything at first, surprised by the sudden change when he was getting ready to push his 'the door is gone' point.  
  
"A lot of people do," he says, with an 'it's obvious' tone of voice. "Except for everyone who knows you well enough to hope that you're not _really_ dead," he shrugs. "But...obviously, you can't be dead if you're here."

Ed laughs at that, shortly. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

He waves his hand at the bar. "This place is strange. There's a lot of things you wouldn't think possible around here." Of course, there's also a great many things that Ed is still too stubborn to accept. "Look, I can't promise you that I'm not dead, but I _am_ okay." Relatively, in any case. "I just can't get back, that's all."

Russell has forgotten all about blaming Ed for the door being missing. He raises an eyebrow giving him an 'I don't believe you' look.  
  
"Wouldn't you _know_ if you were dead?" After all, Russell still thinks he's in Central. "Or are you just trying to trick everyone on purpose?" he adds, having no idea what's really going on.

"I'm not trying to trick _anybody!_ " he says, on the defensive again. "And I'd be there if I could, damnit. I've been TRYING, but it's just not POSSIBLE, so keep your mouth shut about what you don't know!"

"Maybe I would if you'd just tell what this is all about! People who have been missing for weeks don't just suddenly turn up in some bar in the middle of Central!” To be fair, it wasn't even a bar at all a few minutes ago.

"Weeks?" Ed squints at him suspiciously. "It's been _months_ , and this is not a bar in Central. Cut the crap and look around you - this is somewhere else entirely."  
  
Apparently, now that he's completely accepted the existence of a bar at the end of the universe, he has no time for anybody else to get used to the idea. He hasn’t realized that it hasn't even been explained to Russell yet.

"You're going to have to do more explaining than that, I don't see anything different about this place,” Russell hasn't taken a good look around yet, though, “and anyway, it's only been about three weeks since you disappeared."

"Don't see anything different? Try taking a gander at that," Ed says, and points at the viewing window, “and it's been nearly three _months_."

Russell is speechless for once as he looks where Ed is pointing. Normal stars in the sky just didn't… explode like that. Then he finally looks around the bar and really _notices_ the people. Some of them don't look at all like the people he's used to. Or even look human, really. Russell is now thinking that maybe Ed really _isn't_ tricking him. Of course, he would never say this aloud. To cover up his shock, he says, "I think you've forgotten how to count days."

Ed _stares_ at him, "you just saw the universe ending," he says, finally, "and all you can do is insult me?"

He shrugs like the whole universe ending thing doesn't worry him in the least. It does, though, he’s just very good at hiding things. "Well, we can't _both_ be right," he raises an eyebrow.

Ed looks like he just can't believe his ears. "OR MAYBE," He explodes, his tone _way_ too loud, "YOU'RE JUST A KNOW IT ALL ASS WHO CAN'T ADMIT HE'S OUT OF HIS ELEMENT!"

Russell is very good at being calm when Ed is insulting him. "I see you still can't admit defeat, nothing's changed much."  
  
He’s not admitting anything, yet. Especially not with Ed acting like this.

"I'll admit defeat," Ed says stubbornly, "when I've been defeated," he gives Russell a smirk, "and buddy, you ain't even coming close."

"You're changing the subject again. Why does no one else know about this place? What is it? Are you hiding something here that you don't want me to know about?"  
  
That's as close as Russell will come to admitting that _still_ doesn't know what's going on. For now.

"I'm not up to anything dumb, if that's what you mean." As if Ed would _ever_ get himself into trouble. He's so completely innocent, honest! "You're just not asking any questions."

Russell caves. He's just too curious not to at this point.  
  
"Alright. Fine. What happened to you on the day you disappeared? After you went down that tunnel?"

"...of course, you'd ask _that_ question," Ed mutters under his breath, and debates for a moment whether or not to answer it.  
  
But, well. Maybe he owes Russ, just a little.  
  
"Why don't we sit down," he says, finally, "then we'll talk."

This must be serious if Ed wants to sit. Russell just wants to get to the bottom of it all, and what better way to start then at the beginning? That and he's been dying to know what really happened.  
  
"Okay then," he says, a bit calmer this time, spotting a nearby table. "Does this work?"

"Yeah," Ed says, and takes one of the seats at the table. "It works fine."  
  
While he's waiting for Russell to sit down, he asks a question of his own.  
  
"What do you remember last? Some of my memories are kinda fuzzy. I don't really know what you might know."

Russell slides into his chair, thinking over the question.  
  
"Flecther and I waited in the church after you went into the tunnel, we didn't know what was going to happen and we wanted to stay just in case you needed help but...you never came back and we never could get a straight story from those who were involved."

"Those who were - " Ed pauses, and realizes this is a _very_ good time to find out what he's been needing to know for months. "Russell, what happened to Al?"

 "He's..." pause. "He's fine. We visited him in the hospital a few days later. He lost his memory along with the armor and didn't even recognize us. All he talked about was finding you."

"He lost -- " Ed trails off, and all he can do is stare. Russell has achieved the impossible. He’s stunned Edward Elric into silence.

Russell notices the look on Ed's face and he's suddenly really sorry that he had accused Ed at all. Russell didn't want to imagine what it would be like if his own brother lost his memory.  
  
"He's ten years old again, that's what we were told," Russell shrugs. "But I don't know how it happened, or why. That's about all the information we got."

Ed's not even thinking about the memory, not yet. He hasn't quite processed that.  
  
His voice is almost too quick now, the questions aren't paced at all. "So, he got his body back?! Jeeze, I didn't even know if he was dead or alive, I didn't think, I couldn't hope. What's he like? Is he healthy? Does everything work okay? Is he -- "  
  
It's then that he processes the other half.  
  
" -- WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE LOST HIS MEMORY?"  
  
He gives the other boy a look almost as if Russell himself had caused it.

Now it's all Russell can do but stare as Ed rattles off the questions, giving Russell no time to answer properly...Until Ed practically yells the last question.  
  
"Hey, don't look at me like that! I told you, I don't know HOW it happened, it just did!"

That shocks Ed into thinking, it seems.  
  
"You said he's ten? That means he got his body back from when he lost it..." Ed trails off and starts muttering under his breath. It's not loud enough to overhear.  
  
And then he stops.  
  
"Look, I don't have a right to ask this, but can you do me a favor?"

Russell has his own reasons for helping Ed, specifically, still feeling guilty about the whole name stealing business. But Russell would help Ed anyway even if that wasn't the case.  
  
"Of course, whatever you need."

"Can you... can you go see him? Check out how he is?" Ed pulls on the end of his braid, a bit nervously. "Just check up on him."

Russell nods and smiles, "I will. Fletcher would probably like to see Al again too." Pause. "Al had said, back when he was in the hospital, that he knew you were still alive somewhere. Should I... tell him anything?"

"Yeah," Ed says, maybe a bit too quickly. "I know him. He needs to know, even if I can't get back there right now."  
  
Maybe Ed will give up on this 'maybe dead' business. He can be alive, if only for Al.

Russell nods again and then asks,  
  
"Why can't you just...walk out of this bar and go back home? Why are you stuck here?"

"Because it's not home, out there." Ed tries to figure out how to explain _this_ one. "It's the other side of the Gate."

"The Gate." It almost sounds like a question.  
  
Ed gets a curious look from Russell, kind of like 'you had better explain this!'

"...you don't know what the Gate is?"  
  
Ed looks almost surprised at this.

Russell shakes his head, eyes wide.  
  
" _Should_ I know what the Gate is?

"It's... a gateway." Oh yeah, _that_ was obvious. "Between our world and another. It's part of the chain of how alchemy works."

"And you...are on the other side of this Gate?" Now it's Russell's turn to ask a lot of questions. "What's it like? How does it work?" He's practically bouncing in his seat.

"Yeah, I am." Ed isn't as excited about it, but he can't help but smile a little seeing Russell's reaction. "Our side draws energy from over there, so alchemy doesn't work there. It's... a strange sort of chain, really."

"There's no alchemy? At all?" He can't seem to get his mind around this. "A whole other world....is that all that's different about it?"

"I've tried it before. I can only use it here." And what a relief it had been to find out he could use it in here. "Science developed over there instead."  
  
He looks a little more excited., "I'm learning how to build _rockets_ , Russell."

Russell is absolutely _fascinated_ by all this.  
  
"What are rockets for? Are they like guns?"

"Not at all. They're to go out into space. To go outside the Earth!"  
  
The idea's still almost an impossible marvel, but it's wonderful all the same.

"Is that even possible? But...why?" Russell is suddenly thinking about how scary the scene outside the window looks.

Ed is quiet, for a moment. "Because maybe it'll help me get back."

"Oh." Pause. "And that's the only way? The Gate doesn't go in both directions?"

"You need to be able to open it," Ed frowns, "and you need alchemy to do that." Which he doesn't have, not there.

Russell thinks this over. "What if someone opens it from the other side, would that still work?"

Ed blinks, and opens his mouth to answer, before closing it again. "I don't know," he says, finally.

"It's just a thought, but once I'm able to get out of here, I could maybe...discuss this with someone who knows what happened and see if they think it's possible?" Then he adds, "I wouldn't want to do it without your permission."

"Discuss it with who?" It all depends on that.

"Whoever you think should know," he shrugs. "I wouldn't know who to talk to anyway, except maybe Al."

"Al knows," Ed says, "what the Gate is. If he remembers it."

Russell nods. "I can ask him. But what if he doesn't remember?"

"Nobody was there, when I opened it. I made sure..." Ed chews on his lip, for a moment.  
  
"Sensei's seen it, too. But she might... just get angry." He doesn't think it'd be funny to put even Russell at her wrath.

"She was the woman who was there that night, wasn't she?" If she got that angry trying to protect them, Russell wasn't sure if he wanted to meet her when she was angry with _him_.

"She was." Ed has to grin a bit at the memory of her, even if she _is_ one scary woman. "She's very capable. She'd know what to do, if Al didn't."

"I'll see if I can find her." Russell pauses. "It must be really different for you in that other world, to not have alchemy." He doesn’t think he’d be able to stand it.

"It really is." Ed makes a bit of a face. "Especially since I keep seeing familiar people."

"Do you know them already?" Russell is a little confused. Again.

"No, like..." Ed gestures a bit with his hands. "There's a kid there, where I'm studying. He's about my age, and his name is Alfons Heiderich." He stares at Russell. “He looks exactly like Al."

It's hard to imagine how difficult that must be for Ed, he has no idea. "That seems a little strange, that they look the same and have the same name."

"There was another me, too. I was in his body once." Ed realizes how incredibly _weird_ that sounds, but he can't really help it. "But he's... dead."

"Is this common in the other world, to have someone look exactly like you?" Russell briefly wonders if there is someone who looks like him, too.

"I think so." Ed laughs shortly. "Hell, there might even be a girl version of someone, somewhere."

"This is a little too strange for me," Russell smiles. "What else is different from our world?"

"Different names for different places. London, Germany. Transylvania, that's where I'm at now." Ed pauses, then snickers, slightly. " _Ich weiß etwas, dass Sie nicht wissen_ ," he informs Russell, looking a little too smug.

Russell blinks. "I didn't catch that last part," he says, more like a statement, because he's not really sure WHAT Edward was trying to say. Couldn't be anything good, though because Ed was looking smug again.

"That's 'coz it was in German."  
  
Russell kind of wants to find some way to make him stop looking smug.  
  
"I got to live there for awhile. It was _neat_.” Until his dad disappeared, in any case.

Russell doesn't want to let Ed get away with all that smugness. He waves his hand like it's nothing.  
  
"Just sounds like a lot of spitting to me," he says casually, even though he knows Ed will probably see right through that.

"Well," Ed says, trying to act as if that statement hadn't affected him at all, "Maybe you just have to be _sophisticated_ enough to understand what's going on."

"It didn't _sound_ that sophisticated. And besides, there's no use for it at home anyway," he shrugs, leaning back in the chair.

"Could be," Ed says. "Could use it in alchemic notes. Nobody's know your secrets."

Russell has to agree. Putting alchemy notes into code is very useful. But he's not going to admit it.  
  
"Unless you forget what you wrote."  
  
He's grasping at straws here. It might be obvious.

"If you know what you're talking about," Ed says, "You won't forget it." He grins.

Russell matches Ed's grin and decides a change of subject is in order right about now.  
  
"Tell me more about where you're staying now," he says casually, still a bit secretly interested in this new language.

"It's just a bunch of young guys, all staying in this one house, trying to figure out how the hell to build rockets." It's really, well - it's kind of _awesome_. "Lots of experiments."

"Have you gotten any of the rockets to work? I think it would be interesting to watch something go into space." Before now, Russell never even thought it was possible.

"I'm still learning what the hell's going on. But I think they've gotten one or two to work. Not to space, though." Not yet.

Ed glances at Russell. "When I figure it out, maybe I could make one here, and show you."

Russell kind of likes the sound of that, so much so that he's almost bouncing in his seat again.  
  
"Could you? I'm just curious to see what they look like."

Ed grins. "I'll do it," he promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ich weiß etwas, dass Sie nicht wissen_ \- I know something that you don't know
> 
> In the Milliways role-play the bar is semi-sentient and has therefore locked Russell in for two reasons: Russell is overworked and needs rest and he needs to settle things with Ed. Being at the end of the universe means Ed and Russell have arrived from two different points in time, as they have discovered.


	3. Interlude: Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell's first night at Milliways.

Russell got a room for the night and he supposed he should have been grateful for how comfortable it was but, no matter how hard he tried, he still worried about Fletcher.

Of course, Fletcher probably wouldn't even know he was gone until morning, but that didn't stop Russell from tossing and turning. He didn't know how to leave and he HAD to be back by tomorrow to start the experiment. 

That's the last time he went anywhere without the means to draw an array, he thought. If he hadn't been so stupid as to forget to carry a piece of chalk around, he could have left as soon as he arrived, before...before Edward had shown up.

Russell was fairly sure he wasn't hallucinating anymore, only the real Ed would pick a fight like that and he wasn't sure what disturbed him more, the fact that Ed was alive or that this place actually was at the end of the universe.

Russell fell asleep quickly after this last thought, his brain trying to make up for three days of sporadic napping and the shock of everything that he'd seen and heard today.

***

When Russell idly wandered down into the bar the next morning, perky and refreshed, but also very hungry, he was delighted to see that the door had reappeared. Wasting no time, Russell was through it and, seconds later, standing in the hallway outside his room.

The sun was just rising. He was home.

Russell made breakfast for Fletcher and himself this time and, later, when Fletcher asked why Russell had been whistling cheerfully (something he hadn't done in years), Russell couldn't give him any specific reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version of Milliways Bar does, in fact, have rooms upstairs for any length of stay someone needs. There is also a vast outdoor area with a giant lake but we'll get to that later. The bar also runs a tab for you if you need it.


	4. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell returns to Milliways and talks shop with Ed.

It just so happens that Russell was wondering how the whole door to Milliways thing works right as he opened the door to his room. Now he’s stuck in a bar again.

Except for this time the door didn't disappear. And Russell has his battered old notebook and pencil with him. And chalk. Just in case he needs to use alchemy.

Russell decides to stay, he's more prepared this time and, really, the bar is as good a place as any to go over his notes.  
  
&&&

"What'cha planning on doing, writing notes?" Ed's way of greeting him might be a bit jeering, but it's contradicted with a smile.

Russell looks up from sketching arrays, not surprised to see Ed in the least.

"No, I've already written those," he says simply with a small grin, "it's arrays this time."

"What kind of arrays?" Ed looks interested now, and tries to peer over his shoulder.

"Fletcher and I are still trying to find a cure for red water," Russell explains, "it's been...difficult."

Russell doesn't let on how much he's been struggling with it.

"Have you figured out anything new about it?" Ed's face is more serious, now. This is important.

Russell shakes his head. "I thought we might be getting somewhere with trying to draw the sickness out of the lungs...but, nothing permanent yet."

He idly draws a curl to end of one line.

"What happens when you try to do that? Does it just spread back out?"

"I think it's had too much time to take hold, it won't let go so easily. Were trying poultices enhanced with arrays this time..." Russell looks back up at Ed. "Have you come across any information about red water after since you left Xenotime?"

It seems like so long ago.

"Not much," Ed says, regretfully. If there had been anything - he doesn't remember it very easily. "There's something that acts kind of like that, where I am. But I think it has a different cause."

Russell eyes get a little bigger, "what does it do? Are the symptoms the same?"

"It's a lot of coughing, yeah. And fevers, an' getting very tired." Ed doesn't know too much about it - he hasn't seen it up close, but people talk about it a lot. He's glad he hasn't had to see it up close, yet.

Russell nods, mentally writing this information down. "And there's no cure for it either?"

"...not yet." Maybe he should’ve mentioned that. "But if they do, I can tell you. And then you can figure something out."

Russell gives Ed another small grin. "Maybe these sicknesses are so much alike that it will help. The similarities could be there for a reason."

Ed beams a little at the fact he might have helped him after all, helped to figure out the sickness a little. It wasn't about Russell at all, really.

"There are a lot of things that are similar for a reason. It's kinda weird that way."

Part of Russell wants to actually see this other world for himself, but then he remembers that if Ed can't return, then he wouldn't be able to either.

"Maybe we could work together on this," he says suddenly, wondering why in the world he was even thinking about it. Then again, it could help to have another mind on the problem.

Ed pauses at that, surprised to hear Russell suggest it.

\-- but even if he's surprised, and even if he's supposed to think of this guy as a jerk, that doesn't mean it doesn't sound like a good idea.

"I wouldn't mind that."

If Ed's surprised, Russell is even more so. In fact, it felt like he was betraying Fletcher by even thinking it. Russell just nods stiffly, not saying anything, and feeling even more guilty about not telling Fletcher who probably wouldn't believe him about this place anyway.

Russell looks a little nervous now and knows he should say something.

"Do...um. Do they have medicine that they use to try and slow the sickness down?"

 "Um. Sometimes they send people to sanitoria - they're like these places in better climates. It's supposed to make your breathing better so the sickness gets better."

Ed thinks. "Sometimes they sort of collapse the lungs too. They say that helps - but it sounds really creepy to me."

Russell thinks this over. "Sending people to better climates...definitely something to try." He pauses. "But...collapsing lungs, that doesn't sound safe."

"I don't think so either, but I don't think people really know what to do. If it gives them hope - they're willing to try a lot."

Ed's voice is quieter, now that they're talking about all of this. It's not really... a happy subject.

Russell wanted to try as much as he could, but was limited because of some people's reluctance, as well his own, to put them in danger.

"There's got to be more information out there than what I've found so far."

That's also part of the reason Russell wants to be a state alchemist: access to better source material.

"Have you talked to anyone who has it?" Ed asks. "That might help a bit."

"Many of them don't know much more about it than I do. And the people who do know about red water don't seem to want to talk about it."

Russell looks a little angrier now, "especially not to some kids."

"So write 'em letters. Who are they gonna know who's talking? It's for everyone's own good, anyway."

Russell doesn't say anything for a moment. He told himself that he wouldn't deceive people anymore but...these were people's lives at risk.

He settles for a neutral response. "I could." He might not look too comfortable about the idea, though.

"Or," Ed amends the statement, "You could have someone older write 'em for you."

Oh. Well. This is probably why it's a good idea that they're working together. For the ideas that Russell should have thought of.

"Belsio might have some helpful contacts." Russell seems much happier with this plan.

"If you think he'll help, you better ask him, then." It was worth a try anyway, at least.

"You wouldn't happen to know anyone else who could help, do you?"

"Not that's not dead already." Which -- yeah. Not such a good thing to be thinking about.

Russell glances back down at his notebook but gives no indication about how frustrating the entire thing is. "It might take a while but we're hopeful."

Ed pauses as a thought occurs to him. It's -- well, how could he be such an idiot to let this pass his mind?

"You know," he says, almost casually, "We are in a place where people come from many different worlds. Someone here might know something."

Just when he thought he was finally beginning to understand everything... "You mean there's more than one Other World?"

He makes it so he doesn't sound shocked at all but merely like he's verifying information that he was already vaguely aware of.

"They're not - I don't think they're related to our worlds. But they do exist. There's like, a ton of them." Ed doesn’t actually want to try to think about how many there might be.

Russell nods.

"They must have similar diseases then, since the sickness from the other world and the one from ours are similar as well."

At least, he hopes so.

"It could be. Some stuff is weirdly different though, so it's all up to chance." Like - this weird thing called compu-tars, and Ed's not sure if anyone could be sick if they have really smart machines that advised you and made things go into space.

But you never knew.

 They could have a better chance now, he hopes, and Russell's glad for any information.

"I'll definitely look into it," Russell grins, "there has to be something to set us in the right direction."

"I'll ask around too," Ed says, "When I can. If anyone knows anything, I'll point 'em at you."

"I'd appreciate that," Russell says sincerely. "From where we're at now, there is still a long way to go."

"Yeah, but." Ed suddenly finds the ground a very interesting thing to look at. "It's you. You'll get it done."

He didn't just compliment Russell. Really.

Russell can control his emotions easily enough but that doesn't stop his face from turning pink. He glances down at his notebook, trying to hide behind his hair.

"I... well...it's not just me, Fletcher helps a lot too. And you now, I guess..."

Poor Russell is embarrassed.

Ed doesn't miss the fact Russell is blushing when he glances at him; he really isn't sure what to make of that. Part of him is very tempted to tease him for it, but. It somehow doesn't feel right after being honest.

"A guy can get all the help in the world and screw it over if they're not any good," he says. "Don't downplay yourself. It's an insult."

Russell doesn't look directly at Ed.

"Thanks. It's...well...I'm hardly as good as you are..." he continues on, still trying to be modest.

Obviously not realizing what he just said until... Oh. Well, he believes it's true anyway.

That wasn't fair. Russ wasn't supposed to compliment back. Ed blinks, and finds himself lacking again of all his usual answers.

".... we’ll see," he says, finally. "I'm a bit rusty, but I'm sure as heck working on it again now."

Russell is trying to regain his composure.

"It couldn't be that difficult to get back in to," he says, more of a question, really.

"It's not," Ed says, grinning a little. "I made sure not to forget anything, so it's not really about that. It's just getting used to the fact I can use it."

"It must be difficult to live in a world without alchemy." He wonders how Ed can even stand it but he doesn't ask.

"I think," Ed says dryly, "if I didn't have this place, I might go insane."

"It is a nice place," Russell agrees. It's grown on him quickly, to his surprise. He grins, "never been in such an upscale bar before, anyway."

Not that he's been in that many bars in the first place.

"What," Ed says, joking, "you been in many? Never figured you for a drunk."

"A few," Russell says smugly. Then he cracks another grin, to show he's joking. "Actually, just the one in Xenotime and that place had nothing on this one."

"Just be careful about blond females," Ed advises him. "They're crazy."

That may or may not be a universal truth.

"I'll keep that in mind. Wouldn't want to get into any trouble." He pauses. "You must know from experience," Russell says casually.

Ed gives him a falsely shocked look. "Digging for dirt, Russell?"

"Just curious. Obviously, you must have met a lot of crazy blondes in order to come to such a conclusion."

"Just two. But that was more than enough."

"Only two? You must have the worst luck, they can't all be that bad."

Which is proof that Russell has not yet met Winry.

Ed snorts at him.

"Try meeting one of 'em sometime, you'll see,” he says this with love for both, of course. In case any of them are somehow watching.

Russell's not so sure he wants to know but says, "tell me their names and I will then," Russell grins anyway.

"I'll do you one better. I'll introduce you to one. She's my roommate here." Ed pauses. "Not now, but next time you're both around."

"Your roommate?" He raises an eyebrow. "I look forward to it."

"...just a roommate," Ed says defensively. "She decided I needed looking after."

That's not true at all. Really. Ed can take care of himself.

Russell smirks.

"What would happen to make her think such a thing?" He tries to make it sound innocent...but tries not to push it.

"...uh."

Ed suddenly thinks another topic is a very good idea, "SO, how's Fletcher?"

The quick subject change surprises Russell. Something obviously must have happened for Ed to ignore the question. Even if Russell was only teasing. He's not going to pry.

"He's doing better. Enjoying Central," Russell pauses. "He has a cat."

Ed makes a face at that. "Sounds nice," he says, just to contradict that. He does not like cats.

"What? Cats aren't that bad,” assuming that's why Ed made a face.

"Cats are evil,” Ed says this with feeling.

"Only if you're mean to them,” Russell replies, surely not implying anything.

"I AM NOT MEAN TO THEM," Ed says, looking offended.

Apparently, the lack of volume in this conversation was only going to last so long.

"They are mean to ME."

"It was just a simple statement," Russell says casually, unfazed by the loud tone. "Maybe they just don't like you," he shrugs.

"No," Ed says, quite firmly. "Cats are nefarious. They have plans for the world."

"That's giving them too much credit, their only plans involve taking over couches." He really doesn't understand why Ed hates cats so much.

"That's what they want you to think. First the family couch, and next, the world."

Russell smiles. "I think you may have to discuss this with Fletcher, I'm sure he could come up with plenty of reasons why not."

"Bring him in, and I will," Ed says stubbornly.

"I will." Pause. "Once I tell him about this place." He gives a shifty sort-of look.

Ed raises an eyebrow.

Russell does the same. "What?"

"You haven't told him?"

"It's not like I was going to mention a strange bar while in the middle of an important experiment." He's trying very hard not to sound defensive.

"What do you think he'd say if you did?" Ed asks, quietly.

Russell shrugs. "He would probably be very worried about me losing my mind."

"Maybe you can bring him proof." Ed ponders this.

"What are you suggesting?" Russell asks, not following.

"Like. Take a picture of something from here, or bring something." Ed blinks, and waves a hand. "Could take a picture of me."

Russell blinks. "Of...you." he says, unsure. "That could make him believe me...but it could also make him worry about me more." Pause. "Do you have a camera?"

"Worry about you more? Why?" Ed blinks. "Ain't gonna kill you or something." He pauses. "Don't have a camera, but we could get one from the bar."

Russell still doesn't know about Bar.

"There's no guarantee that he'll believe me. He might just wonder why I have a picture of you."

"Oh! Are people going to talk?" Ed jokes. He hops up and starts walking towards the bar. Russell stands to follow.

"You know, I never thought you were the type to like getting your picture taken," he comments.

"It's for a worthy cause," Ed says, cheerfully. "I'm the only one allowed to call you insane."

"You really don't mind, then?" Another thought occurs to him. "I could give it to Al when we go to visit him, if you want."

Ed pauses in his steps, and blinks before smiling. "Yeah," he says, a bit gratefully.

Russell nods and smiles back, "so, where's this camera?"

Ed pats the bar and says, cheerfully, "Bar, can you give us a camera?"

She obliges them quickly, and it appears on the bar top.

"Thanks."

"...who were you talking to?" Russell asks, not seeing Ed use alchemy.

"The Bar," Ed says, and pauses. "Oh, I didn't tell you about that, did I? She's sentient. And can give you anything you want. You just gotta pay for it now or later."

Well. One more thing to add to the 'Fletcher, I swear I'm not hallucinating' list. As long as there was some form of equivalent exchange involved, Russell was fine with it. He picks up the camera and peers through the lens, moving back some to get Ed in the frame.

"Ready?"

Ed almost makes a funny face at the camera, but then he remembers that this is the first time Al will see him in a while and that maybe Al doesn't even remember him looking this old. So, in the end, he gives the camera the nicest smile he can muster.

"Ready!"

"One...two..." Click!

"I can take the film with me when I leave next," Russell says, fiddling with the camera.

"You could always have the bar develop it," Ed points out. "That way, you have 'em right away!"

"Uh...sure." Russell says, wondering what else this strange bar is capable of.

He hands the camera to Ed

"Just put it right here," Ed says, and sets it on the bar. "And ask her to do it."

He looks at Russ expectantly.

Russell doesn't let it show how unsure he is, remembers Ed's example, and speaks confidently.

"Bar. Can you develop these pictures? Please?" He adds out of habit.

He waits, hoping he said everything right, and watches as the camera disappears and two glossy photographs appear in its place.

"These alright?" he asks.

"Yep!" Ed says, and offers him a grin. "You'll really give these to Al?"

Russell smiles in return. "Of course. Hopefully after Fletcher takes them as evidence that this place is real." Russell tilts his head to the side a bit. "You do look different since everyone saw you last."

He had noticed before, of course, but it hadn't sunk in yet.

Ed looks confused at that statement. He pulls at the end of his hair a bit; it's in a ponytail today.

"Huh? How?"

"Your hair, for one, and you never used to dress like that." Russell smirks, "and I think you might have grown since last time."

Ed isn't sure whether to take that as a comment that he was short before, or as a compliment on his height now.

"You think so?" he finally asks, warily.

Clearly, Russell was expecting more of a reaction to that last statement. He's covers up his disappointment easily.

"It's a good thing too, can't have Fletcher be taller than you when you get back!"

Ed's eyes narrow.

"Who," he says, his voice verging on a higher tone, "are you calling a bean too short to outgrow a little pipsqueak?!"

He lifts a foot in threateningly. "I'm gonna kick you in the shin!"

Russell smirks again. "No need to get angry!" he says cheerfully, clearly enjoying himself.

He does eye Ed's foot warily in case it decides to take a swing at him. He knew full well what he was getting himself into. That was the point of it, really.

"Smug bastard!" Ed drops his foot and tries to grab for Russell's collar instead. Might be good to try to hit him in the face.

Russell dodges quickly to the side when Ed lunges for him. "Some things are still the same!" he comments, standing just out of reach. For now.

"Yeah, the fact you're an ass!" Ed attempts to kick him, now. He might be short, but he always has a pretty good reach with his legs.

Russell definitely remembers that. It was painful. Russell can't duck out of the way quite so quickly this time. So yes, still painful. Russell drops low and attempts to knock Ed off his feet.

"Not my fault that it bothers you!"

Ed hops back. He's sort of like a monkey like that, really. And to further the affect, he sticks his fingers in his ears and makes a taunting gesture at Russell.

"Can't get me."

He tries to kick him again but Russell's ready this time and jumps away, knowing he wouldn't be able to block it.

Oh, it's on. He fakes a punch, trying to distract Ed long enough in order to draw an array. He aims for Ed's face this time. And Ed suddenly realizes a rule.

"HEY," he says, moving his hands to cover his face before he can get hit. "WAIT. WE CAN'T FIGHT IN HERE."

Russell stops inches away from Ed's face which causes him to lose his balance slightly in an un-dignified sort of way.

"Huh?" Is all he can manage to say, grabbing onto the bar so he doesn't fall over.

"It's a RULE," Ed says, still a bit too loudly, uncovering his face. "No fighting in the bar!"

"You're telling me this NOW?" Russell pauses. "Or maybe you just don't think you can fight me."

"I CAN TOO!" Ed says, flailing a bit. "And I can prove it, anytime anywhere! It's just a rule!"

"FINE! We'll finish this later. Tomorrow!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "no fighting in the bar" rule is the game-wide rule that was put in place to keep out canon personal conflicts.


	5. Interlude: Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell tells Fletcher. It remains to be seen if Fletcher believes him.

"Fletcher?" Russell calls as he steps through the door from Milliways. "Fletcher, are you home?"

He wouldn't be surprised if Fletcher was off fixing things for the neighbors again, so he goes into the kitchen and puts his notebook on the table, wandering around to see if there was anything to eat.

"Brother?" Fletcher says, from his bedroom doorway. "I've been looking for you all day, I was getting worried."

Russell sighs and turns to face him.

"I'm sorry Fletcher, I should have left a note--"

"I thought you were working on the experiment and when I went to get you for lunch you weren't there! I asked around and nobody else had seen you," Fletcher's eyes are wide and he continues quietly, "I thought something had happened to you..."

"Fletcher..." Russell lowers his head, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away but..." this seems like the perfect time to do so. "I'm fine. I was in a bar called Milliways, it's...really hard to explain..." he trailed off.

"You never go into bars."

"Well, this one's different," Russell says, trying to figure out how to say this without sounding crazy. "It's a restaurant, too. Some people who go there are from very far away."

"I don't understand..."

"It's a bar at the end of the universe," he begins, "you might not believe me until you see it for yourself, though." Russell takes a seat at the kitchen table and motions for Fletcher to do the same. Fletcher looks hesitant at first before taking the seat opposite him.

Russell looks Fletcher in the eye, "do you trust me?" he asks simply.

"Of course I do brother, you know that."

Russell explains how he found Milliways the first time and how he's just come back from his second visit. He shows Fletcher the pictures of Ed and tries to explain the part about people appearing from other worlds as best as he can. Fletcher is quiet during most of this and Russell assumes that he's taking it all in because he's not asking questions.

It may take a little convincing for Fletcher to believe that Milliways exists because Russell isn't sure the door would let Fletcher through at all. Russell goes over to his door, thinks Milliways, and opens it. Only his room is on the other side. Apparently, the door won’t work when trying to show the bar to someone who hasn't been there before.

He really hopes Fletcher trusts him enough for this one.

Fletcher perks up a lot more when Russell suggests that they visit Al. Even though he still wouldn't remember them, Russell has a favor to do and photos to deliver. They plan to go as soon as possible, whenever there is a decent break in their research, which hasn’t been moving along very well lately. 

By the time Russell is finished talking, it's dark out, and the two of them find something to eat and discuss the experiment for the next day. Russell is glad that Fletcher hadn't dismissed his story as crazy ramblings, but he's also disappointed that Fletcher didn't say that he believes him outright, yet. It will take time, he is sure, but at least he doesn't feel guilty about hiding it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea is that Milliways only allows in those who need to be there, for whatever the reason. It's not Fletcher's turn yet.


	6. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell still thinks the fight is on and Ed has not been having a good week.

Ed is in the bar with his nose all bruised up and writing quickly in a notebook. It may or may not be readable to anyone else: it's all in a complex code. He might explain what he's writing, if poked about it. Depends on how secretive he's feeling at the time.

Russell spots Ed from the stairs and decides that sneaking up on him is a good plan.

"Looks like someone already did my job for me," he says in a slightly louder than normal voice, when he spots Ed nose. He is standing stiffly and his arms are crossed in front of him. This does not bode well. "I'll have to find who it was and thank them."

...aw, hell. Ed glances up from his notebook, his eyes widening for a moment. "Uh, Russ," he says, "you're probably not gonna believe this, but it's been a crap couple of days..."

Russell raises an eyebrow. "No. I can believe it. You forgot about our agreement and got yourself beat up in the process. You can't back out this time."

"I didn't forget," Ed says, defensively. "The door doesn't always show up, you know. And I kinda had to deal with some stuff."

"No more excuses," Russell says shortly, "it sounds like you decided to back out."

Ed's eyes flash a bit. "Look, why don't you try having one of your best friends try to commit murder and see how you like it!"

Russell's single-mindedness has always been a problem. Maybe if he was actually paying attention to the way Ed was reacting, he would have noticed something was off.

"I'm...sorry to hear that," he says stiffly, by way of an apology. His expression isn't as angry as before, but he is still mad.

"Yeah, well," Ed says a bit gruffly, and thumps his boots onto the floor as he stands up. "Can't help it now, can we?"

Russell eyes Ed warily as he stands just in case he makes any sudden movements.

"Guess not," he says, indifferently, not moving an inch. "Now, where did we leave off?"

Ed pauses, his eyes lighting up for a moment, before he smirks in a way that is probably not good at all. "You might not want to fight me," he says, his voice lighter now. "Could give ya cooties."

Russell raises his eyebrow again, clearly confused by this sudden change in direction. "What are you on about now? Making up stories to get out of fighting, I see."

"Nope," Ed says, looking more than a little smug. "It's a disease. That spreads."

Russell is giving him a look that says 'riiiiight'. "And you just made up this disease? Right this moment?" he says, in a 'I knew you were scared to fight me voice'.

"Do I look like I'd make that up?" Ed gives him the best innocent look he can. "It's true, I swear."

"It doesn't even sound real, Ed. Give me some proof like how it spreads and what causes it and then maybe I'll consider believing you." Russell says this all in a vaguely 'I dare you' tone.

"I could prove it by infecting you," Ed says in a sweet sort of tone. "Then you can find out from first hand experience."

Of course, Russell still doesn't believe it's real, so what harm could it do?

"Go ahead," Russell says casually, "though I really don't know what you're going to prove by it."

That's not what Russell was supposed to say. That threat was not supposed to backfire on Ed. "Do you have any idea how cooties spread?"

Russell is still using his disbelieving tone. "Why are you asking me? You're the one who is supposed to know all about it. I'm still waiting for proof..."

"A girl comes along," Ed says slowly, "And snogs you, or otherwise touches you. This is how you get cooties."

"So, only girls have this cooties disease, then?" he says, still a bit disbelieving. "That's it? What are the symptoms?"

Russell is still trying to back Ed into a corner. Figuratively speaking, of course

"It makes you want to spread it farther, and do very creepy things. And there's no stopping it. It gets a hold of you and makes you feel weird."

Ed is clearly enjoying bullshitting Russell. "...and, uh, there's a rash. Don't ask where."

Russell narrows his eyes suspiciously at Edward. "That's not very specific. Besides, if you had this disease, you would be doing creepy things that make you feel weird right now..." he trails off.

This whole thing is starting to creep Russell out...maybe Ed does have this disease. Russell gives a questioning sideways glance at Ed. He's not even going to ask about the rash.

Ed gives him a very, very innocent smile. "What makes you think I'm not planning on it?"

Russell hasn't quite connected the dots yet...poor kid. "Planning on doing what?" Russell's tone matches Ed's smile. He's slightly suspicious of what the answer might be but he doesn't show it.

Ed raises an eyebrow.

"You're going to raise an eyebrow at me?" Russell teases. Yeah. Ed is acting creepy. And weird. But it can't be the cooties disease, there's no such thing!

Ed resists the urge to face-palm.

"I," he says, jumping up and stalking closer to Russ. This is a very risky thing, since he has no intent on carrying out the threat - but hopefully the guy'll follow the rules, and flee, "have been infected, and am now going to infect you."

Russell was not expecting Ed to move so suddenly. He takes a couple steps back and tries not to lose his composure.

"So, tell me, how were you infected?" It clicks. About time. "Been kissing girls, have you?"

"What, and you haven't?" Ed looks as if that is the greatest shock in the world. "It's about time to start, isn't it?"

Russell is hurt. Hurt.

"I have actually," he says, bragging. "Which proves that if your cooties disease is real than I would be acting weird just like you." He says this like he's unraveling the mysteries of the universe...which, is kind of weird actually.

"Unless it's one you just catch from here," Ed says, after a moment of quick thinking. "'Cuz it's the bar." With access to many places!

"That," says Russell "is the worst excuse I have ever heard."

But. It could be an in-bar epidemic...It's possible. But Russell won't admit it.

Ed says nothing, and just takes another step towards Russell.

Russell eyes Ed warily. Ed is acting creepy again. 

"The cooties disease doesn't exist," he says, though it's less forceful and less certain than last time. He doesn't move. Yet.

"Are you sure?"

Ed's getting very close now.

Russell is not afraid of Ed so he stands his ground and tries to look tall and imposing. Well, imposing, at least. He's already tall.

"Why does it matter, anyway? Are you looking for approval or something?" Russell is trying to cover up the fact that no, he isn't sure at all.

Ed stops in his tracks. This isn't supposed to be getting him confused. This is supposed to be freaking Russell out!

"What, you're not scared?"

"It doesn't exist remember? Your threats, or whatever else it is that you're doing, do not affect me!" It might sound a bit... defensive? At any rate, Russell’s hiding behind a smug look again while pretending to be calm.

"How can you prove it doesn't exist?" Ed challenges, for a lack of anything else. "You have to be able to prove that somehow."

Russell is silent, wondering how this conversation turned on him.

"How can you prove it does?" Russell counters, trying frantically to think of something. "If it is real and only in the bar, then other people must have it too," he says finally. "I'll just ask them." He seems satisfied with his answer.

"Most people don't know. It's supposed to be kept secret, so it doesn’t freak out the masses."

"....then how did you find out about it? Besides, if it's bad enough to scare people, then it should be fatal, and I don't see you falling over sick."

Russell crosses his arms. Stubbornly.

"It's not fatal. It does other things, I told you." 

Why isn't this working quite right? ...Because nothing ever works right for Ed.

"Yes, well, you still haven't been very specific about those other things yet." Russell raises an eyebrow. "Seems to me that if it was real, you would be able to describe it better."

Ed ponders on a gamble and finally decides that when you've licked a guy in the name of cooties, you don't have much shame anymore.

"Could show you." He tries to grab for Russell's arm.

"You've already used that threat, and I still haven't seen you follow through with it." Russell narrows his eyes at Ed. "What, are you scared that I'll find out you're lying?" This is said in a vaguely 'I dare you' voice.

...argh. Russell is an idiot to the nth power, and apparently not afraid of anything. So Ed tugs on his arm, and leans real close.

"Remember," he says in a low voice, "how I said the cooties make you do strange things?"

He tries his very best to fake Russell out, layering his voice with intent. Nothing he is going to follow through on, but appearance is everything.

Ed might notice how tense Russell is at this point, remembering very vividly that cooties had something to do with snogging. Ed wouldn't dare....er, right?

"Yes." Russell yanks his arm out of Ed's grip and takes a step back. "Your point?"

Ed closes the distance again. He's not the type to quit while he may be ahead. "Might want to think about it. Or do you need a... demonstration?"

His smile is entirely innocent. Really.

Russell knows exactly what Ed's intentions are this time. He wonders if Ed would actually follow through with it if Russell agreed to a demonstration. He almost does. Purely out of curiosity, of course. But he decides against it.

"You're only acting strange because you think it proves your point." Russell crosses his arms, mostly to protect himself. "Which it doesn't. It proves that you're making it up, like I have suspected from the beginning."

"You sure about that?" Ed gives him a wicked sort of smile, and doesn't back away yet. "Completely, one hundred percent sure?"

Russell does not hesitate and speaks so firmly that he almost believes it himself. "Completely sure. There was never any doubt." There is nothing in his voice either that would suggest otherwise.

"Hmm." Ed doesn't sound as if he really believes this.

Because he shouldn't?

"Seriously Ed, if you're going to try and trick me, you've got to do better than that." He shakes his head, playing it off like it didn't confuse him in the least.

Ed's eyes flash for a moment. That wasn't a dare, was it? -- it was.

"How about something like this?" he asks, and plants a kiss right on Russell's cheek.

It happens so quickly that Russell is too shocked to move or react in any other way. In other words, he gets kissed on the cheek. By Ed, of all people.

"What the hell!" He yells, pushing backwards while giving Ed the strangest look.

Ed covers his mouth to try to hold back laughter, but it doesn't really work. Yeah. Completely laughing at Russ, here. He might want to kick him.

A kick isn't personal enough so Russell aims a punch at Ed instead, looking furious beyond furious. Nothing else to do at this point, really.

"You gonna hit someone who's wounded?!" Ed yelps, and covers his face. Which kind of leaves him vulnerable to punches in other places.

Russell is Not Speaking and he definitely wouldn't be punching Ed if Ed hadn't laughed at him. Russell's only reply is to aim another punch, this time at Ed's stomach, to knock the air out of him.

"Ngh." Yeah, that one got him. Ed clutches at his stomach now. "...wounded... guy!" He'd fight back, but that's taken him off guard for a moment.

Russell's not out of control, he just needed to do something to let his anger out. One punch was enough. For now. Russell steps back a bit, catching his breath and still looking angry.

"You didn't answer my question," he states simply, his voice even

"What... was the question?" Ed's forgotten.

Russell crosses his arms again and glares at Ed like he suspects that he's playing games again.

"I mean," he goes on, coolly, "why did you think it was a good idea to kiss me?" There is no trace of embarrassment at all. Just glaring.

"Cooties." That's the only explanation. Clearly.

Russell has gone beyond anger and straight into frustration.

"I don't want to hear any more about it! The game is over, Ed, I won't play along."

Russell never shows this side of himself to people. Ed should feel special. Or scared. Either one, really. "If you mention it again, I won't stop at only one punch."

Ed blinks, and actually looks at him now, rather than just being amused. "....why are you mad?" He actually does want to know.

Russell seems to calm down a bit and lowers his head, hiding behind his hair again, and avoiding Edward's gaze.

"Just..." he sighs loudly, still not looking at him. "Just forget it, okay?"

It's not that he won't tell Ed, he _can't_. Russell really doesn't understand what's going on anymore or why. He's also a bit ashamed that he couldn't keep his emotions in check. That's just something he won't say.

"It's not dumb, if that's what you think it is. I promise I won't laugh or anything." Ed doesn't really get that Russell doesn't know himself. But he'll drop it if told once more.

Feeling composed enough to look up now, Russell does so, and looks Ed in the eye.

"How would you know?" He asks calmly. "How would you know if it's dumb or not? You don't know me." The last part sounds slightly bitter.

"Well," Ed says quietly, "we could fix that."

Russell looks at Ed curiously, simply for how quiet that was. It's different, but a nice change.

"How?" he asks sincerely.

"Simple. We stop fighting and start actually talking." Was it even possible? Who knew.

"We'll probably just start fighting again, anyway." Doesn't mean he thinks it's a bad idea, though.

Ed snorts. "Never said we wouldn't do that. But we can balance it out."

"We could discuss alchemy again..." Russell suggests. "Unless there's something else you had in mind?"

"Can't keep doing that. Gotta find something else!" Ed looks at him expectantly, as if Russ is supposed to come up with whatever it is.

"Why not?" Russell raises an eyebrow, "it's something we both know a lot about. 

"Yeah, but we always talk about that," Ed points out. "It's not making me learn anything about you, is it?"

Russell never intended to talk about himself in the first place. He doesn't do that sort of thing. He kind of wants to try, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on for the ride, they both obviously have stuff they need to work through. Russell more than Ed.


	7. Sleepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A caffeine crash hits Ed hard. Russell is there to witness it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might not seem like it but these are all in chronological order plot wise based on when they were posted in the community. There may be dead time not accounted for since they were written as roleplay. (And yes, there will be Shamballa-based plot later).

Russell did manage to make it home for a couple of days, if only to make sure the experiment was still going well and that his brother was doing okay. He likes the bar a lot more, now that he's figured out how to come and go whenever he wants.  
  
Russell is currently sitting at a table with a book in one hand and writing in his notebook with the other...whatever it is he's writing looks a lot like random scribbles. He's oblivious to the world at this point.

Oblivious, huh? Might not be able to stay oblivious for long. Ed is studying a really thick book, when he happens to spot Russ; he sneaks on over, and lets his book hit the table with a huge THUMP.  
  
"Russ!" he says, cheerfully.

Russell was right in the middle of sketching an intricate array when the entire table jolted and his array suddenly had a new ungraceful squiggle sticking out to the side. He drops his book in surprise, losing the page, and looks up quickly, wondering who would possibly disturb someone while they were working.  
  
"Ed," he says, not surprised in the least to see who it is.

"Russ," Ed says, reaching over and ruffling his hair a bit. He's not looking to die. Really. "What're you doing?"

Russell quickly bats Ed arm out of the way. No wonder Fletcher didn't like it when he did that to him.  
  
"What did you do that for?" he looks at Ed strangely, trying to flatten his hair down.

"Why not?" Ed blinks, and then snickers a little. "What, you don't like it?"  
  
Apparently, that's his cue to try to do it again, so he does but Russell leans away out of reach.  
  
"That's enough," he says, sounding a bit annoyed. "Since when do you like to ruffle people's hair?"

"What're you doing?" Ed asks again, avoiding answering the question entirely.

Russell lets out a sigh. "Working on my experiment," he says exasperatedly, "if you really have to know." Russell looks at him curiously. "Why...? What are you doing?" Russell is worried that Ed might be Planning Something.

"Nothing," Ed says, stealing a seat and plopping his elbows on the table. "Takin' a break."

Russell picks up his dropped book and sets it aside. "A break from what? Ruffling people's hair?" he asks, still sounding a bit annoyed.

Ed taps the book. "Studying." He smiles, contently. "Learning new things."

Russell is curious. He tries to get a look at the cover. "Like what? More of those rocket things you were talking about?"

"Yep! Trying to figure it out." He pushes the book at Russ. "Duo brought me this book. I guess it might be cheating to use books from another world, but I don't mind."

"Who is Duo?" he asks, reaching for the book and flipping through a few pages. "Can't be that bad if it helps you get home..."

"Yeah. S'not like I killed someone to get it. Just borrowed a frickin book." Ed's subdued for a moment at the mention of killing, then brightens again. "Duo’s this really crazy guy, shorter’n me, brown braid. If you see him, make sure to pull on it. He likes that."

"I would hope that you wouldn't have to kill someone for a book." Russell glances up. "So, he's not from your other world, then?"

"No, he's from another entirely. A place with computers. We don't have that." And too bad - it'd been pretty interesting.

"Computers?" Russell closes the book. "Are they like rockets?"

"Nope," Ed says cheerfully. "They're things with shiny screens that you hit buttons and they _do things._ "  
  
...yeah, maybe he's not the best at describing things right now.

"...they're not dangerous, I hope?" With the way Ed was acting, Russell wouldn't be surprised. "But what do they _do_?"

"They process information better. And store it, so you can get to it. But sometimes you lose crap."

"That doesn't sound very reliable if it loses things." He grins. "Paper works just fine for storing information."

"Yeah," Ed says, "But paper could burn. It's nice to have a backup." Oh, does he know that well.

"That computer thing still sounds strange, anyway." Russell shrugs. "So when can I see one of those rockets?"

"Gotta learn how to do it, first!" Ed gives him a strange look. "Might take awhile. S'not like just drawing an array." Sadly.

Obviously, Russell has no idea what it takes to build a rocket. "You haven't been making very much progress, then?"

"I _will_ ," Ed says, defensively. "It'll just take a bit of time."

"It will, but you'll figure it out," he replies sincerely, a bit surprised at the defensive tone.

"Yep," Ed says, now a bit mollified. Yeah, he needs sleep. "That's what this book'll help with."

Russell nods and then looks questioningly at Ed. "You were really energetic a moment ago," he observes.

"I am still," Ed says defensively again, but really doesn't look it.

"I was just wondering why you're so cheerful today," Russell says simply with a small grin.

"Lots and lots of caffeine!" Hey. At least he admits it.  
  
Ed pillows his head on his arms, for a moment. No harm in it, right?

"That would explain it," Russell says as he watches Ed lay his head down. "It can't be wearing off already?"

"What, already?" Ed mumbles. "Drank it a long time ago." It's getting very hard to convince his eyes to be open.

"I noticed," he says, "you better not fall asleep at the table."Not like Russell doesn't sleep at tables. Not at all. Nope.

\--- too late. If Ed snores, Russell will hit him with his notebook just for the fun of it.  
  
"Ed," he says cautiously, trying to see if he's actually asleep and not faking it. "Ed?" Russell pokes him with his pencil.

Ed jumps a little and swats at it, before settling down once more like before.

Russell pokes him in the shoulder again, a little harder this time, just to be sure. "Eeeedward?"

Russell grins. He flips the ends of Ed's hair around so it's in his face, trying to see if Ed is ticklish.

Ed flinches, and swats again.

Russell wants to see if it will wake Ed up, so he tickles Ed's nose with the end of the braid, still grinning.

Ed twitches a bit, but is not awake just yet.  
  
Russell grins and stops with the tickling. He picks up Ed's big book and aims it at the table right beside Ed's face and SLAM!  
  
Had to get Ed back for that one. ~~~~

Ed jerks up right away. "Whatthefuckwas thatwhat'sgoing on?!" He asks, a bit too quickly, and then narrows his eyes when he realizes. Give him two seconds to be awake, and he'll _plot revenge._

"What?" Russell asks, entirely too innocently to be believable. Not to mention the grin.

Ed aims a kick at Russ' shin, under the table.

"OW!" He wasn't expecting to get kicked and he grabs his leg in pain. "I didn't kick you when you slammed that book on the table earlier!" he says indignantly

"But you weren't asleep!" Ed points out, entirely ignoring the fact that falling asleep was probably asking for it.

"Maybe you shouldn't have had all that caffeine, then!" He rubs his shin. "You're just lucky I didn't decide to dye your hair pink," he smirks.

"....I coulda turned it back!" Not that this would have fixed the damage of someone seeing it beforehand.

"The way you were sleeping, it would have been _days_ before you woke and realized what had happened," he grins. "You should be thanking me, not kicking me." Yeah, he's still mad about that.

"Thanking you for not taking advantage of the fact I was sleeping?" Ed makes a face at the idea of that.

Russell shrugs. "You were the one who decided sleeping would be a good idea. Slamming the book down seemed fair enough."

"Sleeping," Ed says, with feeling, "Is a very good thing right now." And looking tempting once more, too. Damn.

"The table can't be _that_ comfortable. Don't you have a room or something?"

"...yep." Ed squints at the stairs which seem so far away. "I'll go there 'n a minute."

Russell narrows his eyes at Ed. "Are you even going to make it up the stairs?"

"I'll get there just fine!" Ed says, defensive once more...he's real quick to that today.

"It was just a question. But if you fall asleep at the table again, I can't promise that I won't dye your hair."

Ed considers this and stands up. "Won't fall asleep here," he says.

Good choice for Ed but it deprives Russell of his amusement.  
  
"That's good because you snore anyway," he says casually, pretending he's not waiting for a reaction.

"And I BET," Ed informs him in a loud tone, "That YOU snore LOUDER."  
  
He gives Russell a narrowed look.

Russell raises his eyebrows. "So, you _do_ snore then?" He wonders if Ed will figure out that Russell lied about that first bit.

"No idea," Ed says haughtily, "But obviously, I didn't just then, or you would know."  
  
"I just wanted to see your reaction," he smirks, "see if you were touchy about it."

"I'm not stupid enough."  
  
That being said, he's 'stupid enough' to be touchy about other things, but he's definitely not admitting that.

Russell gives him the 'oh really?' look. "Why, do you know someone who is? Maybe someone who is touchy about...height?"

"I," Ed says even louder than before, "HAVE TO SLEEP, AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS BE A JERK?" Apparently, he's too tired to even spazz about beans. Huh.

Russell leans back in his chair. "I'm not stopping you from leaving. I'll even stop talking. Right now." He picks up his book like he's going to read.

Ed gives him a strange look, and grabs his own book off the table. "You sure you can do that?" Look who is forgetting about being a motormouth himself.

Russell flips through the book trying to find his page. He glances back up at Edward, smiles and then nods. It's not that difficult.

Ed blinks, and tucks the book under his arm. He pauses for a moment, before snickering a little to himself; he reaches over and ruffles Russ' hair wildly, before hightailing it for the stairs.

"Hey...!" Russell is a little startled by the hair ruffling again and is half out of his chair, ready to chase Edward up the stairs, then changes his mind. He shakes his head and grins, trying to flatten his hair again.  
  
Now to find where he left off. Besides, he can always get Ed back for that later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Ed's friend is _that_ Duo Maxwell from Gundam Wing.


	8. Interlude: Rocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is building something outback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interludes are usually shorter, unfinished role-play threads that still have important character interactions. I'm thinking of putting the unimportant random interludes into their own work.

Ed is outside. It's a bit late to be out there, but he doesn't seem to notice - he's too absorbed with his task at hand.  
  
He's been at it, for awhile - a few hours, at least. He's dressed in old clothes that have seen better days and wearing thick gray gloves. He's been assembling together a bunch of pieces from inside a box. He probably could have been seen dragging that box through the bar earlier. He brought it from home, just for this purpose.  
  
What he's making is probably pretty clear. It's a small rocket, about a foot and a half tall.

Russell was aware of the outside area to the bar, but he hasn't actually been out there yet. He wanders out the door, not really caring that it's getting late, and spots a dark figure a short way off. He makes his way over, unaware of who it is or what it is that's being built.

Ed's humming something under his breath, or at least attempting to - it's rather unbalanced in tune, and would probably make a musician wince. He keeps working.

As Russell gets closer, he recognizes the hair and... what is it that Ed is humming? Russell walks a little quieter, trying to be sneaky. He hopes there's no twigs to give away his presence. He still wants to get Ed back for messing with him the other day.  
  
When he's standing right behind Ed, Russell leans over a little and says, "Why Ed, I didn't know you liked to sing!" He jumps back quick in case there are any sudden movements.

 "ACK," Ed comments, and attempts to aim a blow in Russ' direction. Too bad Russ backed up too quick, or it might have connected.

Russell loves seeing what makes Ed react the way he does, but he probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone else. "What was that song anyway? I think you may need lessons."  
  
Not that Russell is one to talk... but sometimes he just doesn't know when to shut up.

"Dunno," Ed says, "But you're not gonna be concerned with my singing in a minute." He offers Russ a grin. "Can guess what this is?"

"Um..." he looks it over for a moment, then turns back to Ed. "You're building...a radio receiver?" he says hesitantly, not wanting to make it seem like he has no idea.

Ed laughs.  
  
"It's something you've wanted to see," he says, giving a rather easy hint.

Of course. Russell remembers now. "A rocket, right?" He hopes so, he's really been looking forward to seeing one.

" _Exactly_." Ed motions at the box. "Hand me the last piece, and then it'll be done."

"This?" It’s some kind of metal panel and Russell hands it over silently, watching the rocket expectantly wondering if it will start up right away.

Ed attaches the panel to the side of the rocket quickly and efficiently.  
  
"And now," he says, jumping up. "It's ready. Whenever you want to see it fly." He's actually kind of scared it won't work, but, he’s pretty sure he installed everything correctly so hopefully it will.

Russell’s eyes light up. "I'm ready," he says with a grin, too excited to wait any longer and wondering _how_ the metal thing will even make it up into the air. It doesn't look like something that small would be able to go far. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We never got around to finishing this thread. Spoiler: It didn't work. Russell was disappointed but Ed thinks he knows what went wrong.


	9. Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed takes more photos to send to Al. Some teasing is involved and they talk about brothers.

Ed is in the bar at a booth, messing around with a camera that he got from the bar. He keeps taking pictures of things, half of them just for the hell of it. The bar itself, various crowds, the booth... maybe even an unsuspecting person or two. He's more than a little entertained by this. 

Russell approaches Ed cautiously just in case Ed decides to take a picture. If Ed already has one of him, Russell doesn't know about it.

"So you're a photographer now?" he says, slightly amused, sliding into the opposite seat.

Ed only bothers to respond to this by snapping a photo of Russ.

"Hey!" he exclaims blinking from the flash. "What would you possibly need a picture of me for?"

"Dunno," Ed says, and snickers a little. "Why wouldn't I need one?"

Russell gives Ed a suspicious look. "You're up to something... have you been drinking too much caffeine again?"

"Not one bit," Ed says truthfully, and snaps another picture of Russ. "Not gonna drink more for awhile."

"I don't...Gah!" Russell exclaims again at the second flash. "No more pictures of me! Give me the camera."

"No," Ed says, giving him a look and holding the camera close. "It's mine."

"Fine, but no more pictures of me!" He leans back. "Why do you have a camera anyway?"

"To take pictures with," Ed says, matter-of-fact, as if that's answer enough.

Russell sighs and rephrases his question. "Why are you taking pictures then? Are you bored?"

"Because," Ed says, "I want to send Al some pictures."

He - kind of hasn't asked Russ if he's willing to even deliver them to the non-bar bound brother, but hey. Hopefully Russell couldn't resist that smile that Ed gets whenever he talks about his brother.

Russell looks at Ed strangely. Of _course_ he can't resist, he'd probably do the same thing for Fletcher.

"And how exactly are you going to send them to him?" he asks, sure he already knows the answer to that one.

Ed gives him a very hopeful look.

Russell rolls his eyes. Of _course_ he will give them to Al.

"I'm already going to visit," Russell shrugs, "might as well." He pauses. "But I'm not a mailman, so don't make this a habit."

"Sure," Ed says, and grins at him. "Thanks."

"No problem," Russell smiles easily. "What else have you gotten pictures of?"

"Lots of things! I'm gonna bring it home and take some pictures there, too." Ed sets the camera down, now; he puts it next to him, and gives Russ a wary look. 

Russell eyes the camera, waiting for the perfect time to snatch it away. But not yet.

"Of the other world, huh? I'd like to see pictures of it."

"You will," Ed informs him, "If you don't steal my camera."

"If you take another picture of me, I will," he threatens. A small grin ruins the effect.

"I've got two already," Ed says. "Jeeze, what’cha think I'm gonna do, pepper my walls with them?"

"How should I know what you're going to do with them?" Russell shrugs. "We each have two, so we're even."

Ed pauses at that. "What, you still have them?"

"Of course," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I haven't been home long enough to visit Al yet. It's not something you can explain through a letter."

"Oh, so _that's_ it." Ed is teasing, so he makes it sound like he doesn't quite believe Russell’s reasoning.

"What? You think I'm keeping them on purpose?" He says, trying not to sound defensive.

"You tell me!"

Russell narrows his eyes at Ed. "Why are you taking pictures of _me_ , then? If I recall, you're not giving them to my brother, are you?"

"To test the camera," Ed says, more than a little defense in his tone.

Russell gives him a disbelieving look. "Seems like it's working fine to me," he says casually, leaning back and watching Ed out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, _now_." Ed admits nothing.

Russell smirks. "I guess that's true," he says, still casually. "Or maybe you just want hang them on your wall." Russell would never miss an opportunity to tease Ed about something.

"I," Ed proclaims, "Would let Stephanie hang up pictures of pink sparkly ponies and fluffy teddy bears before I put a picture of you on the wall."

"I'm hurt Ed," Russell says in a mocking tone, "that you won't even consider hanging my pictures up. I'm much more interesting than teddy bears," he says, bragging. "But if you would rather have pictures of sparkly ponies than me..." he trails off, shrugging.

"I've gotta look at your mug every day," Ed says, "I don't need to hang it on my wall as well."

He didn't even slip in the word 'ugly', as that statement usually calls for.

Russell looks at Ed curiously, no really knowing why he's still pushing the subject.

"It can't be that bad, I didn't break your camera when you took those pictures," he's bragging again.

"Cameras don't make judgments. People do."

Russell’s expression softens, suddenly. "I didn't mean..." he starts, not wanting Ed to get the wrong impression about him. "It was just a joke."

Ed is startled a bit, by the change. "Didn't mean _what_?" He looks a bit suspicious.

Russell is tempted to just say 'forget it'. But he doesn't. "Didn't mean what I said about not breaking the camera," he shrugs, like it's nothing. He's not looking at Ed, though.

"...are you trying not to sound egoistical?" Ed tries to process this, and then snickers a little. "Russ. Don't worry about it."

"Well, yeah," he says sheepishly, finally looking up. "Didn't want you to think I was conceited." A small grin. "'Cause I'm not."

"If I thought you were conceited," Ed says, "I'd tell you." He pauses, something catching his notice. "... since when are you worried what I think?"

_Since I stole your name_. Russell shrugs, "I'm not worried, just didn't want you to get the wrong impression, that's all." But it sure sounds like there's a lot more to it than that.

"Cough it up." Ed nudges him under the table with his foot. "I won't leave you alone until you do."

Russell doesn't doubt it and it takes a moment for him to think of something to say.

"You remember that note I wrote you? When you left Xenotime?" he began, not quite sure why he wasn't changing the subject.

"What," Ed says dryly, "the one where you told me you're a year younger but taller, you bastard?" He stops to really think about it, now. "Which part?"

Russell grins a little when he remembers that part of the letter.

"When I said you were a role-model," he lowers his head a little, it's harder to say it aloud than in a note. "I saw how close you and Al were, you listen and trust each other," he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and looks up. "I realized that I had only been thinking about myself."

It's difficult for him to admit this and he's surprised he's even saying anything.

"So, what did you do then?" Ed's tone is quieter. He's... not sure how to handle this, really. It's surprising.

Russell shrugs, mostly because it's something to do. "I started listening to Fletcher more," he says simply. He pauses. "You ever notice that sometimes younger brothers know a lot more than you give them credit for?"

Ed laughs a little. "Um," he says, " _yeah_."

"Funny how that happens sometimes," Russell says fondly, a tone Ed may recognize. "Can't underestimate them."

"If you do, they'll just point out how wrong you are, and be right _again_."

"And hopefully be polite about it so you don't feel like the biggest idiot," Russell adds.

"Nothing but polite. Which makes a guy feel worse when they want to spazz."

Maybe politeness was a little brother's secret weapon.

"All the little old ladies in the neighborhood _love_ Fletcher because he's so polite. They always ask him to help them with their gardening."

"Probably more cuz I bet he does help them." Ed would like to learn how to garden someday - but he's totally and utterly clueless.

"He enjoys it. I try and help out when I can, whenever they're not fussing over Fletcher."

"And how often is that?"

"Whenever I'm not locked in my lab and Fletcher is able to drag me outside," he says with a grin. "Which is not very often."

"You should go outside more," Ed informs him. "Sun is good for you. Too much research isn't." He’s hoping that not _too_ much concern shows in his tone or anything.

"That's what Fletcher says," he grins, "I'm working on it." Maybe Russell will actually listen this time.

"Don't work on it," Ed informs him sternly. " _Do_ it. That's the only way."

Russell is silent for a moment, then he nods, "I will." If only to keep Fletcher off his back. Really.

Ed rewards him with a grin. "Good."

"Gardening is relaxing, anyway," Russell adds with a small smile, "might even help with the experiment, if I'm lucky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed's friend is Stephanie Brown from the Batman series. He's probably gonna mention her again since they're roommates.


	10. Interlude: Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell and Fletcher get back from visiting Al.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unfinished thread.

It had been a long trip, longer than Russell had anticipated, anyway, and he never slept well on trains.  
  
Russell and Fletcher arrive home, leaving their luggage just inside the door for now as they both head to the kitchen.  
  
"It was nice to see Al again, wasn't it brother?"  
  
"It was," Russell replied simply, collapsing into the nearest chair. He couldn't help it, the table looked too comfortable. He rests his head in his arms.  
  
~~~  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
Russell looks up quickly. "Huh? No, why would you think that?"  
  
"Because I left for five minutes and you fell asleep," Fletcher gives him as much a disapproving look as he can. Somehow, it always manages to make Russell feel guilty.  
  
"Get some proper rest, please brother?"  
  
Russell also couldn't resist the puppy dog eyes and his bed sounded much more comfortable than the table right now anyway. He really was tired, it had been a tiring trip after all. He heads to his room and walks through the doorway without thinking.  
  
"...ah hell."  
  
Why did the bar always have to show up when he _didn't_ want it to be here? All he wanted to do was get some sleep, why was that so difficult?  
  
He wanders over to an out of the way booth, resting his head on his arms, dozing off almost immediately. He's not very comfortable… maybe he should have gotten a room. Russell's obviously not thinking straight. Lack of sleep will do that to a person.

"You look tired," Ed comments, appearing by Russ' table. He's holding a blanket, which is usual as of late, and is giving Russ an odd look. Because, well. He never usually sees anyone _else_ this tired.

Unfortunately for Russell, he is a light sleeper and is awake in an instant at the sound of someone one talking to him. He looks up blearily to see who it is.  
  
"It's been a long couple of days," he says simply, too tired to even snark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed has a blanket because he caught a cold while in the bar.


	11. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed tries to avoid Russell. It does not end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off-screen: Ed's friend Stephanie may have insinuated a few things about Ed's interest in Russell. Unfortunately, I can't find the link to this thread between them.

The experiment is moving along better than Russell had hoped, so when he walks through the door, he's in quite a cheerful mood. He's whistling quietly - a habit he's picked back up ever since his first trip into the bar - as he wanders over to an out of the way table. He has his battered old notebook and pencil with him.

Ed is wandering by and doesn't notice Russell at all. Not yet, anyway.

Russell wasn't keeping a lookout for Ed. Really. But when he does catch sight of him walking by, he doesn't hesitate to say hello.  
  
"Ed!" he calls out, with a small wave and a grin. It would have been rude to ignore Ed anyway.

"NO." Ed informs him loudly, and marches off in another direction.

Russell sits for a moment, mid wave, processing what just happened. Russell decides to get up and follow him, just to see what had put Ed in a grumpy mood and if he could somehow tease him about it.  
  
"Do you make a habit of ignoring people who say hello to you?" he asks Ed, sounding slightly amused.  
  
"NO!" Ed repeats again, in hopes it might have some effect this time, and quickens his pace hoping Russell will get the hint and stop following him.

Feeling slightly worried that something horrible may have happened since they last spoke, Russell tags along.   
  
"Ed?" he asks hesitantly, keeping up with him. He reaches out to try and grab Ed's arm to stop him.

"Naugh!" Ed pulls his arm away, a very strange look crossing his face. "I'm fine, I'm fine! Just leave me _alone_."

 Russell moves to stand in front of Ed to try and block his path.

"No, you're not fine and I won't leave you alone, _especially_ not when you're acting like this," Russell says firmly crossing his arms.

"I'm not acting like anything!" Yes, because Ed is acting _perfectly normal_ , right now _._

Russell looks at Ed curiously wondering if he'd said something to Ed earlier to make him act like this.  
  
"You usually yell at me for some reason or another," he states evenly, "have I missed what it was somehow?"

Ed backs up a step or two, trying to keep distance between them. "You haven't missed anything, I'm fine, I have some work to do."

Russell doesn't want to let Ed get away that easy but he also doesn't want to pry.  
  
"Because it won't be a fair fight if I don't know what's going on," he continues, settling on trying to stay neutral.

"Why do you think we're fighting about anything?"  
  
"Because you obviously don't want to talk to me and I have no idea _why_ ," Russell says forcefully, leaning toward Ed a little. He pauses. "If you're mad at someone else, _please_ don't take it out on me," he says, slightly quieter than before.

"It's not - I'm not - " Ed flails a bit, “I’m not taking anything out on you, I swear!" It was just Steph, and her weirdness, making Ed _think_ about… things.

"You could have at least been more polite about not wanting to talk to me, instead of yelling 'no' across the bar," Russell says, a bit annoyed.

"It wasn't across the bar." Not quite, anyway.

Russell makes a disbelieving noise, "it might as well have been." Pause. "Really Ed, I'll leave you alone if that's what you want. Sorry if I tried being friendly," he says bitterly.

Wait. Damnit, now Ed feels _guilty._ "Would you believe me if I blamed it all on cooties?"

Russell rolls his eyes. Not this _again_.  
  
"Haven't you given up on that story yet?" Russell asks. "And no, I wouldn't believe you, because _you made it up_."

"No, Duo made it up,” Ed states, realizing he might have given up his cover. “There's a difference."

Russell raises an eyebrow at Ed. "Really. So, you admit that cooties don't exist once and for all and I will never ever have to hear about them again?"

" _Fine_ ," Ed says, waving a hand; he hates to give up such a good story, but maybe if he makes the concession Russ will forget about the other crap.  
  
"So what really happened then?" he asks quietly, showing concern, knowing that he would have a better chance at getting Ed to talk if he didn't sound annoyed.  
  
"It's not important." Except it really is, and he doesn't even have any idea why.

Russell nods silently trying not to push it too much. "It must be important to someone else then, if not you," he says casually.

"It's nothing to worry about," Ed says, his voice a bit too quick, still not quite able to walk away. "Don't _worry_ about it."  
  
Russell knows when the subject is closed. It's time to move away from it. "Let's just forget this ever happened, then. Okay?" he asks sincerely, giving Ed an out if he wanted to take it.

"Yeah. Because you really, really don't need to hear about what crap Steph was talking ab -- " Ed really, _really_ needs to watch where his words go without him. He shuts up.

Russell is intrigued now and gives Ed a curious look. "What was that? Talking about what?" Ed really shouldn't have said anything.

"I thought you were dropping it!"

Russell smirks. "I was...until you decided to continue it."

“I did let it go!" Ed protests, "you're the one that keeps pursuing it. Leave me alone!"

"I gave you a chance to change the subject, you just didn't want to!"

" _What_ ," Ed says, his tone a little incredulous, "stop, no, and drop it wasn't enough for you?!"  
  
"Fine! If it bothers you that much, I’ll leave you alone!" Russell replies loudly. He suddenly realizes he doesn't even know _why_ he's trying to push the subject at all, just that habit tells him that he needs to get an advantage somehow.

Russell takes a steadying breath. "I promise I'll leave the subject alone this time," he says, quieter.

"Like _hell_ ," Ed says, launching himself toward Russell.

_What the--_ is the only thing Russell's mind can register before Ed tackles him. It wouldn't seem like it, but Ed is heavier than he looks, especially when the target isn't expecting it. Russell hits the floor hard.

Ed knew it was a bad idea. A really _, really_ bad idea. There's a reason he wanted to keep the hell away from Russ, because he didn't want to test this - didn't want to think about what Steph had been saying. But now he is _not_ keeping the hell away from him, and he _is_ thinking about it, and --  
  
\-- he kisses him.

Russell is pretty much at Ed’s mercy at this point, with the wind knocked out of him. A little dazed and acting on reflex, Russell leans into it before realizing...this is _Ed_ , someone he shouldn't be attracted to, kissing _him_... someone who had already kissed him once before. He panics and falls back into old habits.  
  
"What is it with you and kissing people!" Russell exclaims loudly, pushing Ed away and sitting up so quickly, he feels a bit dizzy. He tries to look anywhere but at Ed, trying to process the fact that part of him is wishing he was still on the floor with Ed on top of him. The thought didn't freak him out as much as he expected it to.

Ed’s posture noticeably stiffens, trying to close himself off. "What the hell!" Ed says, tone defensive. "What did you make me do that for!"

"What did _I_ do?!" Russell says incredulously, still sitting on the floor and pretending he wasn’t in the middle of a personal crisis. "I didn't make you do anything! _You_ tackled _me_!"

"You're the one that -- the one that --" Ed looks at Russell sitting too far away from him, looking like someone who should be _kissed_ , and Ed panics a little too. "—It’s your fault!”

Russell is quiet for a moment before looking up to glare at Ed. He feels his mind go blank and a mask of indifference settle over his face. He can't stop himself and doesn’t know why.  
  
"You blame me for what _you_ did," he says finally, his voice flat, "because you can't admit when you've done something wrong!"

_Done something..._  
  
...right.  
  
Ed visibly deflates at the choice of words. " _Whatever_ ," he says, as if a word is enough to brush the entire thing off. "I have better things to do than this."

Russell feels Ed's change in attitude hit him in the gut. He is speechless for a moment thinking over and over _...idiot idiot idiot..._ though he's not sure if he's referring to Ed or to himself.  
  
Russell stands up. "You'd better go do that then," he says, much more harshly than he intended.

Ed's eyes flash, and his fist clenches; it probably looks like he's going to try to punch Russell for a moment. Certainly, he was thinking of it. But, finally, he restrains himself, and makes himself turn on his heel to leave.  
  
But not before hissing out, in a low voice: " _Bastard._ "

Russell doesn't miss the motion and stands perfectly still, half expecting a punch.  
  
But seeing Ed turn around and walk away like that makes Russell wish that Ed _had_ punched him. At least _that_ was something familiar to him, unlike everything else that had happened today. He can't help but feel like he deserves it.  
  
Russell can't move himself to do anything that would make Ed stop. So, he just stands there, watching him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, ouch. This one hurt just re-reading it.


	12. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russ try to work things out. It's hard for both of them.

Milliways was the very last place that Russell wanted to be at the moment. In fact, he couldn’t care less if he never saw the place again but, nevertheless, it's where he ended up. He was obviously not gonna get away that easily.  
  
He stands stock still for a moment, taking in that fact that the door has disappeared again. He lets out a small sigh, _damnit_.   
  
Russell heads over to a table near the back. To anyone who didn't know him, it would seem like he was completely at his ease when in actuality, he was frantically trying to figure out how to avoid Ed. If asked about it, he'll deny everything, of course.

Unfortunately, Russell happened to pick a table near where Ed was sitting and not doing a very good a job of avoiding him.  
  
"Ngah," Ed says, spotting him, and ducks under the table.  
  
Russell catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and glances over to see what it was. He leans forward a bit to see under the opposite table and then quickly sits up straight when he recognizes who it is.  
  
Just his luck that he would run into Ed only moments after arriving. Russell starts tapping his fingers on his table, the only sign that something is a little off.

Ed glares at Russell's legs, which are all that he can see from here.

Russell keeps glancing at the other table trying to figure out why he's still sitting and not running in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. Russell's knee starts bouncing.

Ed is also trying to figure out why he's still sitting under the table, and why Russell is ignoring him. Because apparently, the logic of the fact that he's been avoiding Russ for days doesn't extend to thinking that Russ should be allowed to avoid _him_. So, the fact he's being ignored is just making him even more annoyed.  
  
Finally, Ed ducks out from under the table to take a seat while very pointedly studying the wall.

Russell's knee stops bouncing. He blinks once at the sudden movement and tries to keep an eye on Ed without actually turning his head. After a few seconds, he gives in and looks in the general direction of where Ed is sitting.  
  
"Just going to sit there?" he says with a tiny hint of a smirk, completely surprising himself.

Ed really hadn't expected to be spoken to, and he jumps a bit in surprise, acting like he hadn't noticed Russ in the first place.  
  
" -- oh, I didn't see you there," he says, and shrugs.  
  
"That's funny, because I did notice you hiding under a table," Russell says casually, almost forgetting that he was trying to _avoid_ Ed, not talk to him. Russell could easily guess why Ed had been under a table and figured he would probably have done the same. Except that it was too obvious for him.

"I," Ed says, with great dignity, "was looking for something I dropped. It had _nothing_ whatsoever to do with you."  
  
Russell raises a disbelieving eyebrow. If he couldn't avoid the person, he could at least try and avoid the subject.   
  
"Did you find it, then? The thing you dropped?" he asks, with no hint of amusement at all.

Ed stuffs his hands into his pockets, and looks stubborn. "What do you care?"

Russell did care, that was the problem.  
  
"Wouldn't want you to lose anything important," he says finally, shrugging.

"Oh." Ed scuffs his foot on the ground. "I don't know if I did."

Russell nods. "...need any help?" he asks quietly, if only because he doesn't know what else to say.

Ed frowns. "Guess that depends," he says, finally.

Russell studies Ed carefully for a moment. "On what?" he asks, surprised.

"On which one of us is going to stop being a jerk first."

Ed is braver than Russell is, no way was he going to mention it first. Russell is silent for a moment wondering how he's going to get out of this one.  
  
"What makes you think either one of us are jerks in the first place?" is what he finally decides on. One bad decision after another, these days.

"...are you gonna make me explain the entire goddamn thing to you? You were _there._ " Ed doesn't sound happy with the prospect.

"I know," Russell sighs. No way to get around this one, he had better just face it. "I... I wasn't trying to be a jerk..." he says, trailing off and staring at the table top.

"I wasn't, either." Funny how it'd just happened.

"I shouldn't have said what I did..." Russell adds, wanting to get past the apologies.

"I guess. But I probably shouldn't have yelled." Ed pauses, and raises an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't you have said it?"

"Because--" Russell pauses "--because I didn't mean it. I was just angry with you for blaming me."

Ed appreciates the fact that it sounds a hell of a lot better than what Russ said before. "Yeah, that was dumb."

"Everything just came out of nowhere." Russell explains. _No kidding._ "What was all that about, anyway?" he asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He hopes Ed won't avoid the subject because Russell really does want to know.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn't have any idea?" Ed offers an odd sort of grin.

Russell makes a small noise of disbelief, not satisfied with that answer. "No idea at all?" he asks, partially wondering if maybe Ed really _didn't_ know.

"Steph was just making weird comments. She messes with my head sometimes, she really _likes_ doing that."

"Your roommate?" Russell remembers the name. "Why do you let her get away with that?" Surely Ed could have put a stop to it.

"I don't." Ed gives him a narrow look. "Not anymore. I talked to her about it."  
  
"Oh. ...What was she saying?" he asks curiously. He wants to know but doesn't expect Ed to answer. It’s worth a try, at least.

"Just... stuff." Ed says, vaguely. "Maybe I just don't like repeating every dumb thing chicks say." Especially since he really didn’t want to dwell on her comments anymore.

Russell wonders if his suspicions about what they talked about are right. "What if it's not dumb?" Russell asks before he can stop himself.

"....huh?"

There is a vaguely stricken look on Russell's face. "I mean...I obviously don't know what was said..." he trails off.

"No backpedaling now," Ed informs him. "Say what the hell you were gonna say."

"Whatever she said, is it only dumb because it's true?" he asks hesitantly, not looking at Ed.

Ed looks frustrated, now. "Either we stop beating around the damn bush, or drop the subject!"

"Give me a straight answer, then" Russell says indignantly, starting to get angry. "No more of this 'I have no idea' stuff!"

"Well, maybe I just don't want to answer," Ed says stubbornly.

Russell makes a frustrated noise and stands up quickly. "Fine. If you don't want to talk, I'm done with this conversation." He turns toward the stairs before Ed speaks.

"I just wonder if we both even know what we're trying to talk about,” he says. It was a _valid question._

Russell lets out a small sigh, trying to calm down. "This whole thing has gotten so weird," he admits, sitting back down.

"And it's not even the good weird." Ed agrees. Especially since they can barely speak to each other without fighting _._

Russell nods. "So maybe we should start over?"

Ed slumps in his chair. "Where can we fix what went wrong?"

"No more dodging the subject anymore for either of us, I guess," Russell starts off slowly. He lets out a shaky breath. "I felt really bad about how I acted, you know..." For some reason he couldn’t place, it was really hard for him to admit that to Ed.

"... me too." That's hard for Ed to admit as well. Not that he has any idea why, either. At least they’re on the same page now. "But I guess I was annoyed too, so I just avoided you."

"There seemed to be a lot of that going on," Russell agrees. "Hopefully we won't have to avoid each other anymore," he adds. It could be taken as a question.  
  
“It'd be stupid to do it," Ed declares, "and I think _I'm_ tired of being dumb."

Russell gives Ed an odd look and shakes his head. "I'm the one who was being dumb," he says simply. "But you're right, I'm tired of it too." Russell pauses and gives Ed a small smile. "Besides, who else will we fight with?"

"Nobody else worth fighting with, anyway."

"What, no corrupt land owners in the other world trying to kill you?" Russell says, joking.

"Nobody's tried to kill me yet, thank you." Ed makes a face at that, "and I'm trying to keep it that way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress!


	13. Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russell pass notes while Ed waits for someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two backstory threads for this which you'll find at the end. Everything should still make sense without reading them, though.
> 
> Also, if anyone wants to join Milliways, it's still [up and running](https://milliways-bar.dreamwidth.org/).

Ed arrives in the bar, heading over to sit on the table of a booth. Yeah, on the _table_ \- he's looking for someone, and kind of wants to make himself more easily spotted if that person happens to want to find him.  
  
Nearby, Russell is in another booth, head on his arms and a cup of tea off to the side that has long since gotten cold. He's not asleep, though, just resting his eyes... which probably have dark circles under them. He’s been there for a while.  
  
Ed spots Russell and takes a piece of paper, wads it up, and tosses it at Russell’s head.  
  
Russell makes an odd muffled noise when the paper hits him in the head and he sits up, blinking, looking around for the culprit. His gaze falls on Ed. Russell narrows his eyes suspiciously at him and then picks up the paper ball, throwing it back at Ed.  
  
Ed blinks and uncrumples the paper, before picking up his pen and writing something on it. He then crumples it up again, and throws it back.  
  
It reads like this: _So what's making -you- act like a lazy bum, huh?_

Russell snorts as he reads the message and then scribbles a reply below it. _Why do you want to know?_  
  
He tosses it back at Ed, aiming for his head. It bounces off and Ed has to actually hop up from the table to retrieve it. This earns Russ a brief nasty look as Ed hops back on the table. Russell grins in a not-so-innocent way in return.  
  
He writes: _Because you look like a dead man walking_ on the paper, before tossing it back.

 _Not enough sleep_ is quickly written before it's flying in Ed's direction again.  
  
Ed raises an eyebrow at him, and writes: _Yeah, sure. I believe you_ on the paper, before throwing it back.  
  
Russell ignores that last part and writes: _It's not like I'm the only one being lazy, you know_  
  
Russell smirks at Ed and then tosses the paper to him.

Ed draws a frustrated face on the paper. He follows this up with: _I have a good reason!_ before throwing it back.

Russell is curious now. _What reason is that?_ is written with a little smiley face drawn next to Ed's. He tosses it again.

 _None of your business_ , Ed writes on the paper, before throwing it back.  
  
Russell shakes his head as he reads the message. _Why the angry face?_ Russell gives him a small smile as he tosses it.

 _Why are we talking through notes, anyway?_ Ed returns the smile, but doesn't answer the question.

Y _ou were supposed to come over here!_ This could go on all night. One of them has to give in at some point. But apparently not yet.

Ed crosses his eyes at him, as if Russ could really see that from all the way over there. He scribbles a weird little stick figure on the paper, before throwing it back.  
  
Apparently, it's meant to be a depiction of Russ. He grins and makes an adjustment to it so that it says _Ed is lazy_ and then tosses it back with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Hey!" Ed says, forgetting to respond by paper, "I am _not_!"

"Not what?" Russell just sits there with his arms crossed, looking very relaxed.

"Shut up," is all Ed says in response, and glares at him. “I’m staying over here.”

"Well in that case, you'll never find out what really happened," Russell shrugs.

"Happened _when_?"  
  
Russell waves a hand, "it's nothing, just some weird game that your friend wanted me to play."

"Which friend? What game?" Now Ed's just confused. Also, slightly worried.

"Your roommate. It’s called Twister and you have to put your hands on colored dots...kind of pointless."  
  
".... what _else_ did she do?" Now he's suspicious.

"Just forced me to play." Russell shrugs but it’s still pretty obvious that he's not telling the whole story.

"You do realize I can get the story out of her, right?" A lot easier than he is now, too.

"So why are _you_ being lazy today?” Russell decides to quickly change the subject.

"I wasn't being _lazy_ ," Ed says, defensively. "I was watching out for someone."  
  
"Really? Who is it?" He's curious, now that Ed is ignoring the fact that Russell has met Steph.  
  
"...just someone," Ed says, after a moment. "You gave me partial information, so I give you partial information," he smirks.

"It must be someone really important..." Russell trails off trying to be subtle about digging for information.

Ed doesn't deny that fact and Russell looks at him for a moment, confused. Ed shrugs.

"I don't even know if you know the person I'm waiting for," Ed says, finally.

"Oh?" Russell leans forward slightly.  
  
"Roy Mustang. He's in the military?" Ed realizes he doesn't even know what the guy's rank is anymore.

"You mean General Mustang?" Russell asks. "Yeah, I met him the other day," he explains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Russell meets Ed's friend Steph](https://milliways-bar.dreamwidth.org/). The part Russell doesn't tell Ed about is the drinking and how he ended up covered in paint.
> 
> [Russell meets Roy Mustang](http://milliways-bar.livejournal.com/11989856.html?thread=496005984#t496005984).


	14. Interlude: Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of vignettes chronicling the discovery of a cure for the red water sickness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the entirety of the red water plot. Dr. Janet Fraiser (from Stargate) is my other Milliways character (my first!) so I had her meet Russell to help him find a cure. My idea was that it was similar enough to tuberculosis that Janet would be able to help.

Being sick is not fun at all and Russell still doesn't know why his brother didn't catch it and he did. He doesn't even know where he got it from but he’s sure Fletcher would say it’s from overwork. Russell is mostly recovered now and is trying to catch up on research. It's one of the reasons why he has a microscope and a collection of slides with him.

Janet is drawn to the microscope. It must be a doctor thing. She stands off to the side of the table, not wanting to interrupt but still curious.  
  
"Are you a scientist?"

Russell looks slowly up at Janet, a slight frown on his face from the unfamiliar word.  
  
He shakes his head. "Alchemist."

Janet tilts her head a bit, realizing.  
  
"You're not from Earth, are you?"

* * *

Russell hadn't known who else to ask for help so it was very lucky that he spotted Dr. Fraiser in the bar as he slams the door shut behind him.  
  
"Doctor, I know this is short notice but the sickness has gotten worse.” He says it all in a rush, not even taking time to catch his breath from running.  
  
Janet, being ever the professional, doesn't even hesitate, "take me to them."

She asks Bar for her med kit on the way out, which she always keeps at the ready for emergencies like this. In addition to the med kit, a duffel bag pops up and Janet grabs it automatically without realizing what it could mean.  
  
And then they're out the door.  


* * *

  
"We've tested this before with a ninety-five percent success rate," Janet reassures the child's father who, in turn, looks around to Russell. "It's the best thing we have," Russell adds, which seems to make up the father's mind.  
  
He nods in assent and moves out of their way.  


* * *

  
The red water results for the children all return negative but Russell won't rest until he knows for sure that the sickness is completely gone. Janet admires his deterministic attitude but has no idea what it stems from...Russell has yet to tell her everything, not used to having an adult who listens to him for more than just his research.  
  
At the end of the day, Janet, Russell and Fletcher all return home exhausted. Russell gives up his room to Janet, transmuting a feather bed for her while squeezing in with Fletcher. He can't get to sleep and ends up reviewing his notes on the foreign medication for the hundredth time. He doesn't notice that he eventually falls asleep until Fletcher shakes him awake saying breakfast is ready.  


* * *

  
It had been three days so far, with all results still coming back negative for the sickness, and Janet has started to worry about Cassie. Deciding on making a quick visit back to Milliways to let Sam know where she went, Russell tells her how to get back.  
  
Unfortunately, Bar doesn't think it was such a good idea and Janet ends up being temporarily (she hopes) stuck in Central.  


* * *

  
"Russell...are you feeling all right?" Janet queries anxiously.   
  
The restless nights had been getting to him which was apparent to everyone. Before he can say anything, Janet continues, "what do you say we get some fresh air? I've been wanting to see more of this city that I've heard so much about."  
  
It's a subtler form of her mothering mode because, however he seems otherwise, Russell is still only a kid.  
  
It actually sounds like a good idea. He smiles genuinely.  
  
"Sure."  


* * *

  
Fletcher hadn't questioned the appearance of this strange new doctor, accepting Russell's assurance that she was completely trustworthy and knew what she was doing.  
  
He was, however, becoming increasingly curious about this mysterious bar that his brother often mentioned. After all, it's difficult to pretend that the place doesn't exist when someone (who he can immediately tell is foreign) suddenly shows up in the kitchen.  


* * *

  
While Janet learned more about Amestris and attempted to gain an understanding of alchemy, Russell and Fletcher both learned a great deal about this new medication from Earth. The three of them set about trying to synthesize it from herbs native to Amestris but, by the time the bar finally decided to let Janet return to Milliways, they hadn't made much progress.  
  
Russell was just happy to have more research; he never did handle boredom well. Once he finds a way to make the medicine from native herbs at home, he will finally have something solid to present at his State Alchemist exam.  
  
After Janet's reassurance that he could get more medical journals from Earth back at Milliways, Russell finally agrees to return for a few days.  
  
Fletcher is perfectly capable of handling the checkups on his own and practically shoves his brother through the door, catching a glimpse of the place as he does so.  
  
Janet's first order of business? Finding Cassie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassie is Janet's canon adopted daughter. Sam is Samantha Carter, Janet's colleague and best friend.


	15. German

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Declarations of hate are made.

Russell hasn't been in the bar for a while but now he’s back and off in a quiet corner reading, as usual, only it's a completely different book than what he's used to. Apparently, Bar has decided that Russell should learn another language. An earth language. He's a little lost right now.

Ed appears suddenly, peering over his shoulder. He's not going to miss a chance to interact with Russ - even if he'd deny any implications of that fact.  
  
" _Der Soldat reinigte sein Gewehr_?" he repeats, staring at the book. There's an odd look on his face. "Why are you reading about that?"

Russell very narrowly manages not to jump in surprise. He does slam the book shut and shove it under his notebook, though.  
  
"Just...doing some...research," he trails off lamely. He doesn't explain what kind...or why he doesn't want Ed to know.

Ed glances at the book, before smirking widely. He should probably encourage Russ to learn German - but he doesn't really feel like it.  
  
" _Forschung_? _Planen Sie zu lassen bauen Ihr Gehirn schließlich an_?"

Russell looks at Ed suspiciously. There is no way Russell could understand any of that yet. "Are you planning on telling me what you just said?" He hopes it wasn't anything mean, but with Ed, you never can tell.

"If you don't know," Ed says casually, resting a hand on one of his hips, "Then I'm not going to tell you!" He grins.

"Did you come over here just to annoy me in another language?" Not that Russell normally minds the annoying part, just that he's a little embarrassed about Ed catching him trying to learn German in the first place.

"What do you think?" Apparently, Ed is feeling like dodging the question today.

"I think you're bored and have nothing better to do," Russell says immediately, wondering what Ed was up to. Russell _always_ thinks Ed is up to something.

"You need more confidence!" Ed insists, giving Russ a 'friendly' slap on the back. "If you think you're not worth hanging around!"

Russell gives Ed a somewhat questioning, somewhat pleased look. "I do have confidence!" he protests. Which might be a little bit of a lie.

"Sure you do," Ed says, shaking his head. "An' I've never been hit by a zeppelin."

Russell is quiet for a moment.  "A zeppelin?" It would help if he knew what that was.

Ed shrugs. "Look it up!"

Russell gives Ed a 'you're not helping' look. But now he _has_ to know. "Well, what where you doing that gave one of those things the opportunity to hit you?"

"Walking!" Ed says, breezily. He leans against a table nearby.

A likely story. Russell narrows his eyes at Ed. "Did you really get hit by something?" He asks, concerned.

"You get hit by _lots_ of things over there," Ed says, bullshitting to make it sound good. "You learn to deal with it!"

Russell decides he needs to ask someone from Earth about _that_.

"You weren't injured, were you?" Russell shocks himself with that question, he used to not care if Ed got hurt considering he was the one doing the hurting.

"Uh," Ed says, frantically thinking about how to change the subject. He leans in and taps the book, instead of bothering to answer at all. "Have you even managed to learn a little of this?"

If Ed wants to change the subject, that's fine with Russell, he wasn't really sure what they had been talking about anyway.  
  
"Uh, no... not really," he replies, looking down at the book instead of at Ed. "It's a little too..." Difficult. Confusing. "...different."

"That's 'coz you got the book all in German," Ed says. "That's a stupid way to learn it."  
  
Which, okay, was actually how Ed had learned it, but it's not something he'd recommend. Plus, he doesn't want to see Russ learn quicker than him that way. That would be wrong.  
  
"Maybe I can help you!"

Russell almost asks him what the catch is but stops, remembering he had recently found out that asking for help isn't necessarily a bad thing. Anyway, Ed sounds so eager, he doesn't want to disappoint him.  
  
"I guess I wouldn't mind that too much." Russell still not wanting to admit why he wants to learn in the first place.

"Cool," Ed says, flashing him a smile before pausing. "Why d'you wanna learn, anyway? Not much use for German back home."

Russell shrugs, "I was curious." There is definitely more to that answer, even if Russell doesn't realize it.

"About what?" Ed's not going to accept just that. He never does.

If Ed plays it right, he might actually get a real answer out of Russell. "I'd never heard of it before." Before Ed spoke German that one time, that is.

"Well, of course not!" Ed says, giving Russel a rather strange look. "It's not from our world."

"Look, Bar just decided to give me that book today," Russell says, a little defensively. "I don't know why."

Ed's probably not going to get an answer that way, so he just plops himself down in a chair, and stares at Russ. Not saying anything at all.

 Russell would have thought that Ed had dropped the subject. Except for the staring, so Russell looks at him suspiciously.  
  
"What?"

Ed says nothing but the staring continues. Russell waves a hand in front of Ed's face, trying to distract him. He hopes he won't have to resort to making weird faces or anything. Ed hardly even blinks.

Russell tries not to get angry with this one-sided conversation, not knowing why Ed would even care. “I already told you why I wanted to learn."

Ed raises an eyebrow and Russell feels his eye twitch. He has no idea why he keeps talking. "Or maybe you just think I'm stealing this from you."  
  
Russell obviously still has issues about that.

Ed shrugs.  
  
"Well I'm not," he says forcefully, wanting this to be very clear. "I don't do that anymore."  
  
Russell is on the verge up getting up and leaving Ed to sit there and stare at nothing. He has no idea why he's staying.

"I know."  
  
The abruptness of Ed's statement surprises even him - he hadn't _expected_ himself to say anything since he was trying rather hard not to. Damn.

"Oh."  
  
Russell is speechless for a moment, gathering his thoughts. It's a simple reason, really, he shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it. He doesn't meet Ed's stare.  
  
"It's because _you_ could speak another language that made me want to learn," he says quietly. He looks up. "Now will you please stop staring at me?"

Ed blinks. That was an... interesting response. And he's not sure how to take it at all.  
  
"Do you think anything _else_ about me?" He asks, finally somehow managing to keep the singsong tone out of his voice - mostly.

"What do you mean?" Russell’s doesn’t want to say anything more, still in shock over what he told Ed.

"You sure are dense, aren't you?" Ed almost sounds disappointed.

"Maybe I am," Russell shocks himself by saying this instead of denying it or picking a fight. He’s beginning to realize that sometimes he clings too much to his smug persona. "You'll just have to enlighten me then."  
  
Ed narrows his eyes, and grabs for Russell's collar. "Do you realize you're daring me to do _anything I want to do?_ "  
  
Russell tries not to react to Ed grabbing his collar. "What is it you want to do?" He doesn't know why he keeps talking, yelling at himself to shut up, but he can't do it. He's sure Ed is close to hitting him at this point. He thinks.

"I don't even know!" Ed says, looking more than a little frustrated. "Why are you being so _stupid_?"

Maybe Russell _was_ acting a little bit stupid, but he honestly doesn't know what he was trying to get Ed to do. He backs down a little.  
  
"I don't know," he sighs, speaking more to himself than Ed. "I don't know what's going on."

"Then someone better figure it out," Ed says. He hasn’t let go of Russell’s collar, yet, and Russell realizes that he doesn't mind it, really. "Because obviously, there is something going on!"

"I don't want to fight you." Russell is wide-eyed, "but if you think I deserve it, then just hit me and get it over with."  
  
Because that is what Russell tells himself this is all about.

"I don't want to fight you, either!" Ed says. Funny how he shakes Russell’s collar a bit after that. "It's weird! And all your fault!"  
  
Russell is pretty much ready to take the blame even though he doesn't know what he's being blamed for. It just _feels_ like all this is his fault somehow.  
  
"It is weird," Russell agrees, making no attempt to move. "Whatever this is."

Ed frowns, eyeing Russ. He doesn't say anything for a moment, before -   
  
"Are you ever gonna walk out that door and not come back?" His tone is almost accusatory.

Russell isn't sure what Ed is referring to, but he tries to choose his words carefully, just in case.  
  
"Even when I was locked out, I managed to find my way back,” he says, voice even, eyes never leaving Ed’s.  
  
Though Russell let himself believe that he never liked being here, there were some things worth staying for. But he can't promise anything.

"Shit," Ed exhales, a rough and heavy sound. "I hate you, you know that, right?"  
  
He hardly sounds convincing, though - and he's _especially_ not convincing when he tugs on Russell collar, pulling him forward so he can press a hard kiss on his lips.  
  
Unless he happens to go around kissing people he hates; in which case the homonucli probably had a fun time.

If Russell kissing Ed intensely in return is any indication, Russell obviously hates Ed too. Hates him _very much_.   
  
Russell knows what he wants now, knows _why_ he’s been acting the way he has. He brings a hand up to cover Ed’s wrist where he’s still gripping his collar.

But Ed breaks the kiss almost as quickly as he started it, staring at Russ with wild eyes. "I can't," he says, his voice low. " _I can't._ "

Russell is little more reluctant to back away. "Why did you do it then, if you can't?" Russell's tone isn't accusing, just quiet, calm, and extremely curious.

"Because," Ed says, "I didn't think through the consequences."

Because nothing like this ever turned out right, did it? So, it was just better not to try at all.

But Russell wants to try. He's never wanted to try so much in his life.  
  
"But you can work through these consequences, right?" Russell doesn't want to give up without trying but it's up to Ed, now.

"To do something like that," Ed says, finally letting go of Russell’s collar and backing up, "You need to trust someone.” He exhales. "I don't trust anyone anymore."

There is no way Russell can imagine what Ed has gone through...still _is_ going through. "Not even your brother?" He's almost afraid to ask.

"That's different." Which should be _apparent_ , his tone implies.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I just..." Russell wants desperately to not say the wrong thing when he feels like he’s been saying the wrong thing his whole life. "I want to understand."  
  
And if Ed can't tell him, well, he'll understand that too.

Ed's face is conflicted, before he shakes his head. "I can't say." He bites his lip for a moment. "Ask me again. Later."

Russell nods once, watching Ed quietly for a moment. "Should I leave?" Even though he doesn't want to anymore.

Ed's eyes are wide for a moment. "No," he says.

"Alright."  
  
Russell wants to ask if Ed is going to be fine but he doesn't know how Ed will react to his concern.

He doesn't know what to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously a huge turning point for them but they still have a ways to go.
> 
> Translations (probably not 100% accurate, fyi):   
> _Der Soldat reinigte sein Gewehr_. = The soldier cleans his rifle.  
>  _Forschung? Planen Sie zu lassen bauen Ihr Gehirn schließlich an?_ = Research? Planing on finally expanding your knowledge?


	16. Interlude: Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters, slid under the door that connects with Milliways.

Fletcher,  
  
I stayed at Milliways once before without telling you where I was, so I am making sure I don't do that again. I don't want you to worry, I am fine here, using my stay to conduct more research on earth medicine with our friend the doctor.  
  
But that is not the only reason I am staying, brother, and neither is it the main reason. It has nothing to do with the experiment and I am in perfect health. I just want you to know that me not telling you the reason for my stay is not a lack of trust in you, I just need to figure something out on my own first. Maybe I will be able to tell you someday, but I can't right now, not yet. I hope you can understand.  
  
I do not know how long I will be here but if there are any changes or news about the research, I'll send word. Hopefully you’ll be able to write back to me from home even though I've never tried it before. If I don't get word from you in two days, I'll come and make sure everything is all right, if only to stop myself from worrying about you.  
  
I know you will do well on your own, checking on the sick children and taking care of the research. I should have let you take on that responsibility a long time ago like I know you wanted. I wouldn't be staying here if I didn't think you could handle it. And remember, if you ever get lonely, Mrs. Hadfield is upstairs, you know how much she appreciates it when we visit.  
  
Your loving brother,  
Russell  


* * *

  
Brother,  
  
I have received your letter without any trouble and I hope this reply reaches you.  
  
Brother, I wish I could go to this place that you keep disappearing to, if only to convince myself that it actually exists. I have caught glimpses of it and Doctor Fraiser is from there, but it is still difficult for me to believe.  
  
But I trust you, brother. I always will. So, if you say that you need some space to think, then I won't beg for you to return.  
  
Everything is going very well on this side and I'm going to visit Belsio for a few days to double check on our progress in Xenotime. He tells me that the town's crops are thriving and I think they even want to give us a party, brother!  
  
I'm leaving Puffy with Mrs. Hadfield as she always tells me that she loves cats just as much as I do. You should see this new trick she can do! Puffy, I mean, not dear Mrs. Hadfield, that would be strange. I found out that some mice had been getting into our garden outback and Puffy chased them away all on her own. Except for that one I let her eat but I had too brother, she looked at me so cute!  
  
I hope you are finding whatever it is that you're searching for and don't worry about me, I don't get lonely easily. I hope to hear from you soon.  
  
Love,  
Fletcher


	17. Interlude: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell needs to stay at Milliways. The bar disagrees.

After his last conversation with Ed, Russell had every intention of making himself bound to Milliways indefinitely but, unfortunately, Bar had other ideas.  
  
So when Fletcher replied to his first letter and Russell approached the door with a reply, intending to slide it under, he ended up back at home.  
  
Russell could have sworn that the door had sucked him in and Russell had never hated a door so much before in his life.  
  
He tried everything he knew to get back, going almost wild with desperation, until Fletcher came home and stopped him from transmuting an axe from a tree branch.  
  
He only hoped that Ed would understand why he was gone.  


* * *

  
Russell was eventually able to admit that it was a good thing he was back home.  
  
One of his patients had gone into relapse and if he hadn't been there, Fletcher wouldn't have been able to save her by himself.  
  
He didn't even stop to think that Bar might have known that this would happen.  


* * *

  
In the same fashion that Russell was forced out of Milliways, he found himself unceremoniously dumped onto the floor in the middle of the bar one day.  
  
Staggering to his feet and brushing off his clothing, he made his way toward the stairs heading to his room.  
  
And if he happened to be looking around the bar anxiously as he walked, well, he had good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting back to more Russellsprout next chapter!


	18. Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself for some angst ahead.

Ed is in the bar, by the fireplace. He's sitting in a chair, one that's real cushiony, with his feet propped up on a footstool. He hasn't been in the bar for awhile, but _he's_ not aware of that. To him, he just spent five minutes outside, grabbing some blueprints to look over.  
  
He's doing this now, holding one up to his face _real close_ as he studies it. Close enough to make one wonder if he needs glasses, but far enough away not to burn - he's got a lit cigarette sticking out of his mouth. He's not even inhaling from it, he just has it clenched between his teeth, letting the thing burn up. He seems a little more subdued than usual.

Russell had just come in from the garden and was slightly pink from being in the sun all day...there might even be a streak of dirt on one cheek. He pauses for a moment at the door and blinks in surprise at the figure by the fire. He narrows his eyes.  
  
A second later there is a quickly transmuted vine flying across the bar. It wraps around Ed's cigarette and flings it into the fire. Russell is standing right in front of Ed, leaning over the chair and generally looking _pissed_.

Well, that was startling. Ed covers that reaction quickly though, and just eyes Russ over the top of the blueprints.  
  
"What?" He asks, his voice demanding. "What do you want?"  
  
He's secretly pleased to see Russ, even if the guy's pissed, but he’s going to hide that too.

"Where the _hell_ did you pick up that habit?"  
  
Of course, Russell hasn't quite registered the fact that Ed is _sitting right in front of him_. It's been _months_ since Russell has seen him. Suddenly, he feels like he can finally breathe.

"Where the _hell_ did you pick up that _face_?" Ed retorts back, without even stopping to think about it. He also chooses to ignore the question entirely.

"Don't even try and change the subject this time!" Russell isn't going to let Ed get away with that. "I want an answer."

Ed eyes him. "You're demanding today," he says, placing the blueprints on a side table. "What’za matter, suspenders on too tight?"

 For a second it would seem as if Russell is at a loss for words, debating on whether to make a frustrated noise or glare at Ed. Instead, he smirks.  
  
"And what would you know about that?"  
  
Ed looks confused for a moment, before shaking his head. "Whatever. Just stop acting weird, Russ."

 Russell tries not to sigh audibly as he slides into the seat next to Ed.  
  
"Is the smoking a recent development?" There's something weary in his tone when he says this ...he really hasn't been too worried about how long he's been away until now.

"I don't smoke," Ed says, stubbornly. "I was just holding it, see? I didn't even inhale."  
  
He leans in close and breathes on Russ, to prove that he doesn't smell like smoke. Except maybe he does a little, anyway. Oops.

Russell leans as far away from Ed as he can, "go breathe on someone else, you smell like the fireplace." He says it because he cares. Really.

Ed laughs. "I don't smell that bad!"

Russell can't help but grin, far less angry that he was a minute ago. "You wouldn't be saying that if you were sitting where I am, obviously."

"Yeah?" Ed shrugs. "I bet your breath isn't kosher either, buddy. But you don't see me complaining."

"Now you're just making stuff up," he teases back, "at least I won't accidentally set myself on fire." He seems rather proud of this fact.  
  
The teasing is kind of ruined by Russell leaning across Ed to try and catch a glimpse of the papers.  
  
"What are you reading anyway?"

Ed chooses to ignore the comment about setting himself on fire. He finds this easy, because now Russ is interested in his blueprints.  
  
"I'm not _reading_ about anything," he says, proudly. "I'm studying blueprints. Of _rockets_."

Russell is suddenly reminded of an earlier rocket demonstration. "And will this one go higher than that first one?"  
  
Idle curiosity, really. Ed makes a strangled sort of noise at that. "It'll go up _fine_ ," he squeaks out.

Russell smirks, glancing away from the papers to look at Ed.  
  
"So... do I get to see this rocket too?"

"Depends," Ed says, shrugging one shoulder up and down. "This one's gonna be a lot bigger. I'm not sure if I could drag it in here." The corner of his lips lift into a smile. "You could visit it, though. Through my bar door."

"I..." Russell is not quite sure what to say, at that. He's a bit surprised to be invited to begin with. "Yeah, I would like that," he says finally. Then, "how big are rockets supposed to be?"

Ed looks pleased that Russ agreed to his invitation. It's not even a fact he tries to _hide_ , which says something by itself. "That'd be telling," he says, snickering a bit. "You'll see."

Russell grins, "not even a hint?"  
  
He's more excited about it then he thought he would be months ago. Although now he's pretty sure it's for other reasons than just traveling to another world. It probably shows.

"Bigger than me," Ed says, not quite thinking through the fact this could bait some teasing.

Russell would be stupid to pass it up this prime opportunity.  
  
"Well, that's not too difficult, is it?" he says, taking the bait before he can change his mind. Unfortunately, he can't manage to hide the small snicker.

Ed opens his mouth, ready to bellow out something loud and probably nonsensical - 

\- and then he changes his mind, raising his flesh arm and pushing Russell forcefully out of his chair onto the ground.

A second too late, Russell realizes that maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Hard to break old habits, though. Russell mutters a few curse words under his breath that Ed probably has not heard from him before and is suddenly tempted to pull Ed to ground with him. Instead he pulls himself and slumps back into his chair.

Small favors though, at least it wasn't the automail arm.

Ed crosses his arms and smirks. "Not too short to do _that_ ," he says.

"Still touchy, I see," Russell says, displeased. He really should learn when to shut up, though, if only for self preservation.

Ed blinks. "Don't be weird," he says, after a moment of silence.

"Wasn't trying to be," Russell replies with a small smile. Though his tone is less teasing and a lot softer this time around.

Ed makes this face at that. "Um," he says. "Okay."

Russell doesn't reply for a moment. Then, "I..." he hesitates, "I'm sorry." Though it might be unclear to Ed what Russell is actually apologizing for.

Ed raises an eyebrow, and puts his hand on Russell's forehead. "What, are you sick, or something?" But there's no temperature, so he lets his hand drop. "'Cuz you're definitely being weird.”

Russell hasn't felt this bad about something for quite a while... it's been bothering him ever since he returned.  
  
"I left...I mean, I had to leave." He's not making much sense now but...it might soon.

"Huh?" Ed squints at him. "Okay? I don't get it."  
  
"I told you that I wouldn't leave." Russell doesn't even stop to ask if Ed remembers that conversation. "But, back home, one of my patients...Bar sent me back to take care of her. She almost died." He pauses, looking away.  
  
"I thought I had only been gone for a few days when I came back. It had really been...months."  
  
Russell wants to ask if Ed even noticed he was gone because he hasn't made any reference to his absence yet. But he doesn’t.

"Wouldn't leave?" Ed looks confused at that, his eyebrow furrowed, before realization strikes him. "You dumbass," he says, his voice a little high, "I didn't mean to _never_ leave this place. Just don't abandon it." _Or me_ , he doesn't add, but may be sensed anyway.

"I didn't think I would be able to get back!" he says, a bit louder than he had intended. He catches his breath before continuing. "I was gone long enough that I thought you might have...given up."  
  
He doesn't say it but, yes, he was scared.

"Last time _I_ saw you, was a few days ago," Ed says. "This place likes to fuck up time." He shakes his head. "But that doesn't matter. You _promised_ , and that means something... right?"

It takes a moment for that sink in, that Russell doesn't need to worry, that Ed is still here, that things are okay. Russell nods then finally smiles.  
  
"I'm staying," he says with confidence, the unsaid _for you_ hanging in the air. "Unless Bar decides to drag me back home again." Which he hopes doesn't happen anytime soon. It feels good to finally say it out loud.

Ed blinks. "What," he says, his voice slow and a little loud, "Are you an _idiot_?" He raises his flesh hand and promptly smacks Russ over the head. "You've gotta take care of your brother, don't you? And your _life_."

"You bastard," he says, his voice steady. His hands are in fists and it looks as if he's barely restraining himself from attacking Ed. He's not sure why he isn't. "You don't think I _know_ that?" his voice growing louder as he continues. "You don't think I've planned for all of it? This is not something I did at the last minute! I wouldn't abandon my brother or my life so quickly even for someone I..." he stops and takes a breath.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." He stares, intently, at Ed as if challenging him to say otherwise.

"Yeah?" Ed exhales sharply, the breath disrupting his bangs. "Then why don't you tell me?"

Russell hates that Ed is making him do this. But then, Ed is the only person who has ever truly made him angry, so maybe there is something to that after all. But Russell is too used to letting things go unsaid and maybe that's why all this confusion is here in the first place.  
  
"I used to hate this place, you know," he says, forcing himself to stay calm. "It took me away from my brother, from everything, forcing me to stay here."  
  
He wants Ed to understand this. Still, he's not used to making big declarations so he pauses, not sure what he's supposed to say for once.

"I'm not _pretending_ that I don't know anything," Ed says, impatiently. "I _don't_ know. And if you're trying to help me out, it's not working."

"Damnit Ed, what do you want me to say? That my brother knows how to contact me if he needs me, that he understands why I need to do this, that I trust him to take care of things?" Russell doesn't even stop to breathe, or to think, because if he does, he would lose his nerve. "Or do you want me to say that I'm staying for _you_ because I don't know how else to show you that I care?"  
  
Eventually, he would have had to say it and now that he has, it was quite less scary then he had imagined it would be. Still, he finds that he can't make eye contact with Ed, so he stares into the fire instead, not sure if the heat on his face is from the flames or his own outburst.

"Well, yeah, I know that," Ed says, suddenly looking uneasy. "We're friends, ya’know. Caring goes along with that."  
  
He may or may not be deliberately missing the point, but…  he admitted that he considers Russ a friend, at least.

Russell doesn't turn to look at Ed. "Friends, yeah," is all he can manage to say and it still ends up sounding strangled. If Ed thinks that's all this was about, Russell is too drained to try and correct him. He leans back in his chair and resists the urge to hide his face in his hands.

An apologetic look flashes in Ed's eyes. "Trust me," he says. "You wouldn't want anything else."

"How can you know that?" Russell says quietly. "How can give up before you even _try_?"  
  
If Russell knows anything, he knows when to quit and knows that this is not the time for it. He doesn't give up so easily ...especially when he's barely even begun.

Ed laughs, the sound far more bitter than it should be. "You barely know _anything_ about me," he points out. "How can you even say any of this?"

"Of _course_ I don't know you, that takes trust," Russell says, finally turning to look at Ed, his tone quiet and earnest. "But it can go both ways too, you know."

"No." The word almost explodes out of Ed's mouth, with as much force as he's put behind it. He gets up from his chair and takes the necessary steps over to Russ, letting himself drop to his knees there.  
  
He has to look up at Russell now, but unconsciously he feels that this is right, that this is a conversation where he is on a lower stance. What better path for a dog?  
  
"I want you to answer a question for me," he says, his voice and eyes insisting. "Would you get involved with a murderer?"

Russell automatically thinks _of course not_ but...that was too easy an answer for such a difficult question. "I …don’t know." For some reason, it feels like Ed is testing him. “I can’t answer that.”

Ed snorts. "So noble," he says. "But that probably wasn't your first reaction." Everyone likes to sound good, he thinks. But who to accept a murderer but another murderer?

Of course, Ed was right and Russell's next thought is that of Mugwar and how horrible his actions were and how Russell was still trying to fix everything that had happened. How they had been misled.  
  
So he says, a bit downcast, "It wasn't, to begin with. But that can't be the whole story. There can't just be good and bad."

"Good and bad?" Ed shakes his head. "I haven't encountered many 'good' people in my life. Just varying shades of dumbass." He looks a little desperate. "You're one of the better ones," he says. "Even if you are a dumbass. I'm not gonna fuck you up, too."

Russell wants to tell Ed that good people do exist and that maybe he just hasn't met too many of them yet.  
  
"Don't start thinking like that," Russell protests with a slightly pleading tone, "there is no way to know what will happen."  
  
He's willing to take the risk.

Ed shakes his head, and glances at the fireplace. He concentrates his gaze there, as if he's never really seen fire before. "It'd be selfish of me," he says. "For more reasons than that."

Russell raises a hand and it hovers hesitantly, like he's not sure what he's doing, before letting it drop lightly onto Ed's shoulder.  
  
"When was the last time you were allowed to be selfish?" He's not sure if he's even allowed to ask something like that, something so personal, not yet anyway.

"I'm _always_ selfish," Ed says. His shoulders slump a little, now. "I've got to start atoning."

Russell isn't sure what to say to convince Ed that he shouldn't punish himself. And he doesn't ask what Ed is atoning for and he doesn't tell him stop being stupid (as much as he wants to). And he won’t pretend like he understands, because he doesn't and probably never will. Instead he just sits there.  
  
"Equivalent exchange," he says finally. It's a quiet sort of comment, one that Russell felt the need to make. Maybe it's starting to make sense.

"Exactly," Ed says. He looks back at Russ at last, focusing his gaze on him. He wants to look away, to _run_ away with what he's forcing himself to say, but he won't let himself. _Equivalent exchange_ , after all, and he needs to make sure Russell understands why.  
  
"I murdered my mother," he says. "I murdered her and I murdered my brother, and I dug up the grave after."

Russell shakes his head, eyes wide. "What are you talking about? You couldn't possibly mean... you actually..." Russel trails off, still staring at Ed. Ed's brother? He couldn't -- Russell had only recently spoken to Al in the bar.

"My mother died," Ed says, patiently and slowly, "because she had two children to take care of, and she neglected herself. But we didn't leave it at that."  
  
No, because _Ed_ had felt the need to push the situation, to insist that they could fix it.  
  
"We used alchemy to bring her back. But there was an equivalent price, see? There always is." It sounds like it's easier for him to tell than it really is.

"Human transmutation," Russell says weakly and he leans back. He can't help it. When he started studying alchemy, that was the first thing he learned was not allowed. Forbidden. This is what Ed must have been referring to and he doesn't know whether to be horrified or sad.

Ed nods. "That's how I lost my limbs," he says, gesturing with his false hand. "But my brother lost his _body_."

"That doesn't make you a murderer," Russell says quietly. He may not know Ed very well, but what he does know is that Ed is, at heart, a _good_ _person_. It was one of those things he just _knew_. He wants to say that it was just a mistake but he's not sure if Ed would take very well to that. Instead, he says, "I'm so sorry," it's heartfelt and sincere and Russell isn't leaving.

Ed ignores the apology. He doesn't _need_ sympathy.

"Oh, yeah?" Ed looks up at him, his lips pulled back to reveal his teeth. "Then what _am_ I?"  
  
"Human, like the rest of us," Russell says simply, like this explains everything. But mostly Russell wants Ed to stop carrying around this guilt. He's knows from experience that it won't be easy.

Ed snorts. His gaze is intense and unwavering as he looks at Russ, and his eyes look far too old for his years.  
  
"Don't you know?" he asks, simply. "Us alchemists _are_ the closest thing to God."

Russell doesn't back off or move away because Ed acting strange doesn't scare him at all. If it did, Russell would have been gone long before now.  
  
"Just because we have god-like abilities, it doesn't make us God," Russell murmurs, staring at Ed in return. "So it's a good thing we're both alchemists."

That's not an answer that Edward expected, and it shows. His right eye twitches a little, and he frowns deeper than before.  
  
"You save people," he says, finally. "Why the hell would you want to save me?"

"Because I can't imagine walking away," he says quietly. He wouldn't even be able to, at this point. If Ed thinks he needs saving, then Russell will be there.

Ed stares up at him, nothing but silence for a long moment. Finally, he lays his arms across Russell’s knees, and settles his head onto them.  
  
"Idiot," he says, and it's hard to tell whether he's being fond or bitter.

It's practically a term of endearment at this point. Russell is unmoving for a second, like he's waiting to see what Ed will do next, before his hands find their way to Ed's shoulders and hair and Russell leans over slightly, letting out a small puff of air.  
  
He rests his forehead against Ed's hair.

"Don't laugh at me," Ed mumbles, so low that it's almost under his breath. It's a grudgingly made protest; one that he doesn't mean at all, considering the fact it's not accompanied by any form of violence.  
  
And then he's quiet. They can just stay here like this for a little while, right? They don't have to complicate matters by talking more - they can just let this be what it is.  
  
Ed can figure it all out later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, there's also a garden outback run by one the patrons and Russell got a sort of part time job there.


	19. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russ talk about... cats and fish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is split into two parts because the word doc was LONG. The next chapter will be longer than this one!

Russell is quiet tonight - not that there's much difference from how he usually is - but still. This time it's a more...contemplative silence. He's in a booth, notebook open in front of him, pencil holding the page open, but Russell is staring out of the window. Or at the window. Either way, he seems lost to world right now.

"Shove over," Ed says, his voice low and gruff. He sits on the edge of the booth, and pushes at Russell’s shoulder with his own.

Russell blinks back to reality, glancing over at the sudden interruption.

"Well, that's nice," he grumbles, shifting over a bit. The fact that he's pleased to see Ed may be noticeable by the small smile that he can't seem to hide.

"Of course it is," Ed says. "I'm saying it, aren't I?" He pushes with his shoulder again. "Move over more." He's not going to be satisfied until he has Russ in the corner, apparently.

"There's plenty of room already!" Russell protests, trying to nudge Ed in the opposite direction. Sitting in the corner is so undignified.

"Yeah, come on," Ed says, and tries to outright shove him. "That's the problem."

Russell falls back against the wall, thankfully not banging his head. In retaliation, he pulls Ed off balance, grabbing his arm.

Ed falls against Russell’s shoulder, perhaps because he didn't expect it, or perhaps he's just not fighting it. "Ouch," he says, but there's no hurt behind it.

Russell steadies himself so he doesn't slide to the side from the sudden weight against his shoulder. Always looking for the advantage, Russell tries to hook a foot around Ed's.

"What are you trying to do, eh?" Ed thumps his foot against the booth as he tries to pull it away. 

Russell can be quick when he wants to be so when Ed tries to move, Russell traps Ed's foot to keep it from going anywhere. According to Russell Logic, this will keep Ed from going anywhere, too.

"Moving over, like you wanted." The smirk may suggest an ulterior motive.

"Now you're just trapping me," Ed says. It should sound like a protest, but there's no such tone in his voice. "Obviously you're doing something else." He thumps his metal foot against the booth, as if to accent his statement.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm trapped too," Russell replies lazily, not sounding at all sad about this. He may even try to pull Ed closer using his foot, hoping Ed will allow it.

"Too bad," Ed says. "Go on and whine about it." Ed doesn't fight against being pulled closer. "Gettin' greedy," he grumbles.

"You don't seem to mind."

"I'm cold," Ed says, "and you're warm."

"Guess I'm not the only one being greedy then," Russell replies, with his foot still against Ed's, Russell brings his hand up to rest lightly on Ed's shoulder.

"Guess not," Ed says. "But what’cha gonna do about it?" There may be a bit of challenge in his voice.

Russell is used to falling back on old habits: acting confident when he's really out of his element. But when Ed's challenge catches him off guard, he hesitates, not answering for a moment.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks finally, though the tone is not quite the same as before.

"Hey," Ed protests. "Nuh-uh. I asked first."

"I think I'll..." Russell trails off with a mischievous look on his face. Hoping to take Ed by surprise, Russell shoves Ed onto his back in the booth with the hand he had on his shoulder.

Ed had expected them to argue about this for ten more minutes, at least - not Russ taking some actual action. But as soon as his back hits the booth, he starts to try to push himself back up.

"What...?"

"You did ask me what I was going to do," Russell explains, leaning over Ed, attempting to use his own weight to hold him down. "Now you'll just have to stay here until I decide to let you go."

It's a credit to Russ that Ed doesn't try to knee him. "You're gonna have to let me go sometime," he says, “you can't just keep me here forever."

"Try me."

Russell is back to being cocky again, so he grins at Ed and stretches out over him, laying his crossed arms over Ed's chest and resting his chin on them. He may also be looking rather pleased with himself.

"I will," Ed says, but he doesn't sound like he could be bothered to right now. Instead, he raises his hand and pats Russell’s hair. "Actin' like a cat," he grumbles, as if he minds. "Should turn you out on the street."

"You wouldn't dare," Russell says lazily, his hair falling into his face from Ed messing with it. He turns his head to one side on his arms and lays still for a moment. "Cats aren't so bad, anyway," Russell speaks from experience, of course.

"Says you," Ed says. "They beg a lot. Whiny and clingy." He considers this and pats Russell's hair some more, intentionally making it even more messy. "Maybe one's not so bad, though."

"More than one cat would definitely be too much," Russell agrees, eyes slowly sliding shut. It's nice, Ed playing with his hair, Russell realizes. He doesn't even care how messy it's going to be when Ed gets done.

"No," Ed says, “only the one in present company." It's a weird sort of compliment.

Russell looks back up at Ed, amused. "What is this obsession with cats, anyway?"

"There is no obsession," Ed says, his voice a little tight, “but when you've dealt with them as much as I've had to..." he has the right to hate the little things!

"Maybe they just like you that much," Russell comments with a grin, propping his chin back up on his arms.

"Dunno," Ed says. "You tell me." His hand gently tightens in Russell’s hair for a moment.

"Thought you already knew," Russell replies, reaching out and running his fingers softly through Ed's hair this time. Then, quietly, "hard not to, you know."

"Yeah, right," Ed says, closing his eyes. "Because there's so many good features."

Russell blinks. "You can't mean that," he says quietly.

Ed offers him a wry smile, but doesn't pursue the subject. "Anyway," he says. "They don't come around because of me. My brother always picked 'em up."

Russell grins a little. "My brother adopted a cat," he adds with a look that may be described 'indulgent'.

What is it with little brothers and cats?

"Ban it now," Ed declares, fiercely, “before it eats you out of house and home."

"I couldn't make Fletcher get rid of her even if I wanted to." Russell is weak when it comes to things his brother wants.

"Why not? Is it clinging to your leg?" No, really, Ed understands. It broke his heart every time he had to make Al get rid of them. But, hopefully it was for the best in the end.

"She's not that attached to me, thankfully." No, Russell just lets her sleep on his pillow. "Gets rid of mice, though."

"Eh, one gets used to 'em." Ed shrugs as best as he can, and pulls tufts of Russ' hair up, forming them into vague hints at cat-ears. "It's not like they're the first creatures t'have to steal food."

Russell would probably not let anyone else mess with his hair so much, but it's Ed so Russell isn't protesting. Unless his hair gets pulled too hard.

"You should meet my brother's cat sometime," Russell smirks, wondering what kind of reaction he would get.

"No," Ed says. "And if you try to suggest it again, I'll kick you off." He lifts his knee a little and presses it threateningly into Russell’s stomach.

"Oh really?" Russell shifts, hands on either side of Ed's head. "I could invite you to visit."

Russell is half tempted to see if Ed would actually be able to throw him off. He hopes not...he's rather comfortable where he is.

"Yeah, and do what?" Ed asks. His eyes are challenging - though as to what he's challenging, even he's not quite sure. "Dump the cat on my head?"

"If that's what you want." Russell shrugs, like it's no big deal. "I'm sure I can arrange it."

Russell lowers himself onto his elbows. The fact that Russell's hair is now almost in Ed's face shows how close he is.

"I'd rather swim with the fish." Of course, the cat would probably go after him then, too.

Ed straightens his leg again, figuring that Russ would be more comfortable without a knee in his stomach. The fact that this would allow him to get closer has nothing to do with it, of course.

Russell hasn't been in this close proximity to Ed for this length of time before and he definitely doesn't know where he's getting the nerve from. He doesn't stop to think because if he does, he'd hesitate. Instead, he rests his forehead against Ed's and says, "too bad, we don't have any." 

Who knew a conversation about cats and fish would turn out this way?

There's a hint of a smile tugging at Ed's lips, a strange sort of one. He should put a stop to this right now, he should take more time to think about it... but for some reason, his brain and his mouth aren't quite on the same level right now.

"Then what're my other choices."

"Well, you could spend more time with the cat or..." Russell doesn't know what he's doing either, making it up as he goes. The next is said in a whisper, fingers just barely grazing Ed's neck. "...you could spend more time with me."

Ed's eyelashes flutter closed, and his next exhale of breath is a little thin. "I guess," he says, and his voice breaks for a moment - he has to pause. "I guess you could try to convince me."

"Didn't think I would have to compete against a cat," Russell lets out a shaky laugh, sounding less sure of himself. He pauses for moment, looking at Ed, fingers lingering here and there. "I would hope that I wouldn't have to convince you," he places his lips lightly against Ed's forehead before he can stop himself.

"Depends," Ed says. His hands are clenched a little into the fabric of Russell’s shirt, gripping the material on each side of him. "On if you can make the trip more interesting... than the cat can..."

Russell's lips brush across Ed's nose, partly on accident, partly on purpose. "Not much of a contest..." Through with talking, Russell does what he's been leading up to, and finally kisses Ed properly.

"Hhh," Ed exhales into the kiss. There's a tugging thought in the back of his head, a small warning... but for the most part, his mind is blank, except for an acute awareness of hands and lips and warmth. He kisses back a little too hard, his teeth scraping against Russell’s lower lip.

Russell lets out a little sigh - half relief, half pleasure - vaguely registering Ed's hands gripping his shirt. He twists his fingers in Ed's hair, blissfully and completely gone, not caring too much about anything right now, except making sure that Ed doesn't stop what he's doing. Russell runs his tongue across Ed's upper lip before pulling him for a deeper kiss.

One little known fact about Ed: he craves touch. It's been like that his whole life. When his mother was alive, he could be found clinging to her apron, or sticking by his brother's side. Even after the array went wrong, he clung to his brother’s armor as much as possible. When he lost his world... it became all that much more important. It serves as a reminder that he's still alive, that he's still whole... that everything is okay, even if only just for a moment.

But this kind of touch, it's too acute, it's almost too much of a reminder. Fingers in his hair he loses sight of his thoughts; two kisses, and he's already breathing harder than he should be. But he responds in kind to Russ, matching intensity for intensity; to make matters worse for himself, he loosens his left hand from Russell's shirt, and lets it explore, trailing fingers aimlessly over Russell's back, across his body.

Russell really hasn't had very many opportunities to touch or be touched, always keeping to himself, never inviting anyone to get to know him better. He is only now getting a chance to learn that.

He shivers a bit as Ed's hand explores further, shifting slightly to make it easier for Ed, pressing himself against him even further. He knows that right now, being with Ed is erasing everything he's ever worried about before. Worried that people wouldn't like him, worried that he would never be able to let anyone get too close to him. Every hint of being nervous is lost in kissing Ed, in running fingers through his hair, down to his throat, his arms, his chest.

Later on, Ed will regret all of this. He'll regret the fact that he let himself get out of control, he'll regret the fact that it'll do nothing but hurt Russ. Each time he thinks about it, he'll find more reasons to feel guilty - especially since all he'll want is to do it again.

But that is later, and this is now. The contact really is becoming too much, but when Ed tears his mouth away, he suddenly finds that it's not enough, either. So he applies his lips to other places – Russell’s forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his throat. He breathes hot air over the spot, before applying his mouth again.

Russell's breath is ragged by this point and he lets Ed take the lead now, his hand idly tracing patterns onto Ed's skin through his shirt, across his chest, lower. He's not sure he'll ever have a coherent thought cross his mind ever again, because what Ed is doing to him is quickly and efficiently depriving him of all sense and he never thought that letting go could ever feel so good.

Unfortunately, he may be required to have a coherent thought soon. Because one realization does strike Ed - not the one he necessarily should be having, but a realization nonetheless. He pulls back a bit too quick and bangs his head on the booth seat as a result.

"Ow," he mutters, and then speaks a little louder. "Rules. We've got... rules. There's rules. Right here." That's the best he can express himself right now.

The stop is abrupt and Russell starts to lean forward again before realizing that Ed is trying to say something. "...what?" Russell asks breathlessly, pushing hair back out of his eyes.

He'd paid attention to the rules the first time he came to the bar but good luck getting him to remember them right now, just like he's forgotten that they're still in public. At least Ed still has some sense about him.

"Rules," Ed repeats again, his voice louder. He forces himself to focus on this fact. Rules, rules, rules. Don't lean in and touch again, don't kiss those lips, don't -- 

" -- outside. Or." Ed closes his eyes against the thought. "Got a room?"

"Yes, of course," Russell replies automatically, but he doesn't move to stand up right away. Part of him is worried that if he does, Ed would change his mind.

He does sit up, though, eventually and grips Ed wrist loosely. "I can show you where it is." Russell's voice breaks slightly as he looks at Ed nervously.

"Okay," Ed says. His voice isn't exactly steady, either. He slides his hand in Russ' grip, to tangle their fingers together instead.

Russell nods slightly, barely squeezing Ed's hand. With some maneuvering, he manages to climb out of the booth, tugging on Ed's arm so he'll know to follow. He doesn't say anything as he leads Ed toward the stairs, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He's suddenly afraid to turn around and look at Ed.

Ed's own eyes are lowered to the floor as he follows. Now that there's time to think, his mind is filling with far too many thoughts for his liking. He doesn't miss Russell's sudden nervousness, either. When they reach the door, Ed lets out a short laugh, "you sure you're ready for this?"

A few minutes ago, in the booth, Russell would have said yes without hesitation. But now that they are standing in front of his room, his mind is finally clear and he realizes that he has no idea what he's doing.

"I don't know," Russell answers, surprising himself with the honesty. He turns to Ed with a questioning look.

Ed leans against the wall, dropping his grip on Russell's hand. "I don't -- " he starts, but he has to stop. Start over again. " --You shouldn't. Do anything you don't want." He glances away.

Russell lets out a breath and covers his face with his hands for a moment before letting them drop to his side. "I do want, I just...I don't want to mess this up."

His voice is quiet and any other time he would have been too embarrassed to admit such a thing aloud. But this is Ed, and he needs to know.

By the look on Ed's face, it's almost as if he could be strangled by that comment. "I don't want to mess _you_ up," he says, desperately. Maybe he already has.

It's obvious that Russell is surprised by this statement and he's tempted to reach out and take Ed's hand again. But he doesn't. "What makes you think that you would?"

Ed shakes his head. "Forget about it," he says, and reaches for the doorknob. He intends this as a note of finality to the conversation, but it doesn't budge. "Open it," he orders Russ, his voice insistent.

As much as Russell wants to know what Ed is talking about, he lets it go, not thinking that by ignoring it, Ed's comment could cause trouble later on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with the Bar rules ;)


	20. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things change, hopefully for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2, the continuation!

Russell fumbles with the key and then lets the door swing open. He hovers in the doorway, waiting for Ed to go first.

Ed takes a few steps into the room, pulling off his gloves as he glances around at all the plants. "Could make a guy sneeze in here," he says, but he isn't exactly complaining. "You grew all these yourself?" He drops the gloves on the floor.

Russell nods. "Brought them from home." He follows Ed inside, closing the door quietly behind him, dropping the key onto the desk by the door, hands in his pockets. "I put some in the garden when I ran out of room."

"They look nice," Ed says, looking everywhere but at Russ. "You did a nice job. They're -- I don't know much about plants, but -- "  
  
He looks at Russell now, really looks at him, and before he can stop himself he's closed the distance. One hand pushing Russ into the door, the other at his neck, fingers digging in a little. His kiss is harsh and hard, a little biting.

Russell’s reply is quickly forgotten as he lets himself be backed up against the door - there was no way he was going to fight it. His hands come up to snake around Ed's back, pulling him in tighter, closer, as he matches Ed's kiss with his own. One hand goes to Ed's chin to tilt his head back.

Ed tangles his hand in a suspender strap, pulling on it when his chin is tilted back. His tongue is in Russell’s mouth, and his foot is hooked around the other boy's ankle - perhaps in imitation of earlier, or perhaps an attempt to bring them all that much closer. It seems that even the air would have problems squeezing between them, now.

Russell lets his hand slide back from Ed's chin to his hair, playing his fingers through the ponytail, tugging slightly. His lips trail down to Ed's neck before stopping below his ear, sucking, kissing.  
  
In one quick movement, Russell shifts his weight to pin Ed to the desk, one hand resting on Ed's hip, the other on the back of his neck.

Ed squirms a bit as he's pinned to the table. Thoughts cross his mind, without any real coherency - he must have done this before, says one. He's got to keep control, eh? says another.  
  
"Don't," he gets out, his voice breathless. "Don't leave a mark." His hand is on Russell’s back, fingernails digging in a little.

Pushing Ed against the desk was due more to the instinct of wanting to get closer to him than having any sort of plan, and Russell really wasn't sure what he wanted to happen next.  
  
Although it wasn't until Ed mentioned not to do it, that Russell thought it would be a good idea. "Why..." _Kiss_ "...not?" Russell asks between breaths, voice a whisper in Ed's ear.

Ed makes a frustrated noise, his hand tangling in the nape of Russell’s hair, pulling on it just enough to be threatening. "You don't know," he says, "how hard that is to explain later."  
  
Or how embarrassing.

Or maybe Russell does know, he distantly remembers teasing Ed about something similar a while ago. Either way, Russell has no idea who Ed would have to explain it to. He conveniently ignores Ed, continuing to kiss and suck before moving on to nibble at Ed's ear a little. For once, he's completely uncaring of his non-experience and hopes that Ed doesn't care either.  
  
Enthusiasm, and all that.

"Idiot," Ed mutters, but he doesn't make a move to stop Russ anymore. Equivalent trade, that's what he'll depend on, and he'll pay Russ back in full later. "If yer gonna do it, 'least do it right."  
  
He pulls back enough so he can point at a spot lower on his neck.

The comment makes Russell pause for a moment. A tiny impulse to defend himself appears and is gone before it really registers. Now doesn’t seem like a good time to turn down instruction.  
  
"Why don't you show me how it's done then?" Russell says with a grin.

Ed pauses at that. "I - I'm not," he starts to stutter out. "I'm not that good at it, either -- "  
  
Then he realizes just exactly what he's admitting to, and the look on his face changes. Wearing a forced smirk, he wraps his hands around the edge of the desk, using the leverage to push himself up. Of course, he doesn't exactly think to clear the desk first, which accounts for the pencil that's pressing into his thigh. He chooses to ignore it.  
  
He reaches forward, pulling hard at Russell’s collar to loosen it. "Wonder what Fletcher'll think," he says, but without waiting for an answer, he leans forward and applies his tongue to exposed skin.

Any other time, Russell would have marveled at the fact that he got Ed to admit to something like that. Instead, he skips the teasing for once and leans into him, eyes closed, reply forgotten now that he's back at Ed's mercy again.  
  
Russell’s hands end up resting on Ed's thighs, whether for the simple contact or because Russell feels like he's going to fall over, he can't say.

Ed's going to do his damned best to make sure everyone notices it - he managed to nail a good hickey on Roy once, he's pretty sure he can do it again.  
  
It's a better thing to concentrate on than hands and thighs, at least, because that leads to thoughts that -- well -- he shouldn't be thinking about right now, he should be thinking about teaching Russ a lesson, and so he keeps at his task, exploring Russell’s throat with his mouth, intending to keep on until he hears a sign that he's found an especially sensitive place.

It seems like Ed is getting close to his goal when Russell wraps an arm around Ed's lower back. Russell's head tilts back even farther and he lets out a deep humming noise that he never knew he was capable of making until now.

  
But then when Ed discovers a certain spot along his jaw - just  _there_  - for the briefest moment, Russell lets out a gasp and drags his nails along Ed's spine. "Do that again," he manages to say, voice strangled.

"Who's giving the orders around here," Ed snickers, despite the fact that nobody's really ordering anyone around.  
  
Ed presses his tongue against the spot, licking in a way that he knows is maddeningly slow, and not at all what Russ wants. "Like this?" he asks, innocently.

Russell's breathing is getting increasingly ragged by the second. His hands are clenched in Ed's shirt now, mostly for support since he is unsure if his legs will hold him for much longer.  
  
"I... you..." is all he can manage to say in between breaths. Giving up on speech, he tugs on Ed's hair as if to say, 'quit teasing, you bastard', though the effect is somewhat ruined as his breath catches and he whimpers slightly.

To hell with it. Ed isn't  _that_  evil - he's just a bit like a cat, preferring to play around with his prey a little before the main bit. "Alright," he says, his voice little more than a whisper, “but only cuz you asked for it."  
  
Ed scrapes his teeth lightly over the spot, before sealing his lips and applying pressure to it, working on that hickey he promised. If his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, he'd surely have on a shit-eating grin right about now.

Russell sinks down against Ed, in a semblance of relief, briefly forgetting that he should be taking mental notes. Some things just don't seem very important in the moment.  
  
When there is a pause, Russell leans back, eyes open for a second, to kiss Ed on the lips, perhaps in approval, perhaps in gratitude, though Russell wouldn't identify it as either. The kiss is long and lingering and Russell doesn't want to stop.

Ed kisses back in kind, not hurrying the tempo of the kiss. While he's usually one for a little more spice when making out, he has a feeling this one means he did something right, and that's immensely pleasing.  
  
He has one hand at the front of Russell’s shirt, gripping the material; the other is at Russell’s hip, fingers linked through a belt loop. Soon, he pulls with both his hands. "Get up here," he orders huskily, not stopping to think as to whether the desk can even hold the weight.

If the desk breaks, it'll be easy enough to fix, anyway. It takes a bit of maneuvering but Russell manages to climb up, knees straddling Ed's hips, for once feeling a bit awkward with the height difference.  
  
"There are books in the way," he comments absently, hands on the desk above Ed's shoulders.

Ed grabs one Russell’s wrist, pulling it toward him so that he can get to his hand. Ed smirks up at him, eyes focused on Russell’s. Ed's gaze is unwavering as he lifts Russell’s hand to his lips, licking and sucking and nibbling at his fingers, intent on more teasing.  
  
Ed sweeps his other arm out, knocking some of the books down to ground with a thud. "Oops," Ed says, still not looking away.

Russell pays no attention to the books falling to the floor. "Oh," he says stupidly, eyes widening, unable to tear his gaze away from Ed. It shouldn’t be that hot what Ed is doing to him but Russell finds it terribly attractive.  
  
He holds Ed's gaze for a moment involuntarily letting a low sound escape from the back of his throat. He pushes Ed’s arms back against the desk, hands sliding up to grips his wrists, pinning him to the desk. He’s definitely being more forceful now than when they were downstairs.

Ed chuckles, the sound dark and low and far too confident. "I'm winning," he says, ignoring the fact that this is not any sort of contest. "Got you right in the palm of my hand."  
  
He knows this sort of comment will only serve to stir Russ up. That is, after all, why he says it.

Russell's mouth quirks up into a small, feral looking grin, "I'm not the one pinned to a desk." Russell wouldn't hesitate to use a bit of force to keep it that way, either. "What are you going to do now?" his voice is entirely too smug when he says this.

"I think the question is," Ed says, "what are you going to do next?" He flexes his flesh wrist, as if testing the grip that Russ has on him. "If you want the upper hand, you're gonna have to work to earn it."  
  
He is _so_ smug.

If Russell lets go of Ed's wrists, he's sure Ed will use that to his advantage. Instead he grips Ed tighter. "Who says you even had it to begin with?" he replies in kind.   
  
Even though that wasn't exactly true, Russell wasn't just going to let Ed get away with ordering him around. "I won't let you get away so easily."

"Prove it." Ed's voice is strong, but his eyes are a little wavering. He feels as if something's going on that he doesn't quite understand, and maybe this all doesn't quite mean what he thought it meant anymore.  
  
Or maybe he's just lost a few brain cells due to oxygen lost while sucking face and he needs to get it back before he can think properly again.

"So polite," Russel quips.  
  
Russell leans forward, on top of Ed, so that they are chest to chest. He dips his head to make Ed think he's going to kiss him, before abruptly turning his head to the side. He lets out a puff of air against Ed neck.  
  
"You could at least say please." Russell whispers into Ed's ear, voice deep.

Ed considers this. Or rather, he submits an application to his brain to consider this, but it's already checked out for the night, hanging up a sign to leave it alone 'till morning. Now, all he has to guide him is himself, and the influence of certain other… parts - ones that he should never really try to listen to at all.  
  
"Make me?" he offers, hesitantly. He's rather convincing about this proposed path of events.

"That's not how it works," he whispers before biting Ed's ear and dragging his tongue along Ed's jaw.  
  
Russell is contradicting his statement, but he's too busy licking down to Ed's throat to care. He dips his tongue along his collar bone, placing gentle bites and kisses before trailing back up to nibble Ed's other ear.

"Hhh," Ed expresses, trying to keep his mind focused on the idea of not giving into this. But it's an idea that had only occurred to him suddenly, and he's just as quickly forgetting why he'd had it at all.  
  
His body is definitely not rolling with the plan, as he tangles a hand into Russell’s hair and pushes down. "Lower," he says, before he can stop himself. "Just a bit -- "

Those are the kind of orders that Russell doesn't mind obeying. He kisses his way back along Ed's throat, lingering here and there, taking his time finally relenting by loosening his grip on Ed's wrists and sliding his hands down to tangle in Ed's shirt collar. They shake a little as he undoes the top button, placing more kisses on his skin. Russell notes with detached amusement that the buttons are done up wrong, and smirks slightly to himself.  
  
Without warning, Ed reaches around Russell’s back, grabs a suspender strap, and snaps it. Then he slides his hand further down, and... well, gives Russell’s bottom a good, firm grope, hoping to shock him.

At least Russell manages to restrain a (very undignified) squeaking noise. Instead, he makes a strangled sound of surprise as his eyes get very big and his face goes pink.  
  
How's that for an upper hand?  
  
Russell tries to hide his face from Ed, sure that it is going from pink to red at a very fast rate. For once, Russell can't think of a good reply and wishes, not for the first time, that he didn't color so easily. He was never going to hear the end of it.

Ed laughs. It's a clear and happy sound, and not at all mean. In fact, it may be a little fond. "So that got you," he says. "I knew it would."  
  
He has to nip Russ gently on the nose, just for being adorable.

Russell doesn't move for a moment, looking at Ed, before he starts chuckling himself.  
  
"Wasn't expecting that..." Russell mumbles with an embarrassed sort of smile. This time he hides his face in the crook of Ed's shoulder, as if trying to hug him, even though there isn't much room for it. He's still laughing slightly.

"You're gonna have to steal your nerves, buddy," Ed informs him, “because if you're going to be riding the Edward Elric make-out tour, there's a lot of things I could do that would make you blush."  
  
Actually, Ed finds that idea rather interesting.

Russell isn't sure he wants to find out what those things are, at least, not right this moment, he only just got his embarrassment back under control. But...soon. Definitely soon.  
  
"Thanks for the warning..." His voice is muffled but he is obviously amused.

"Yer welcome," Ed says, "because it may be the only one you get." Adjust that 'may' to 'probably', and you've got the truth right there.

Russell doesn't want to move from where he is because it is rather comfortable, even if they are laying on a desk. Still, they could do better.  
  
"I do have a bed, you know," he says, almost shyly. "Unless you secretly have a thing for desks?"

"I didn't," Ed says, leering just a little. "But I think maybe I do now."  
  
But the fact is, the wood isn't being very kind to his back, as old as that makes him sound. He'd prefer there to be a step between 'desk' and 'bed' (maybe a chair?), but he'd also prefer to not have to explain to Alfons why his back muscles are fucked when he gets home. It'd just be weird to try to come up with an excuse.  
  
"Get up, get up," he says, and pushes at Russ.

Russell grins, sliding off the desk and taking Ed's hand to pull him up. It's a short walk to the bed in the corner and Russell sinks down onto the mattress, still holding Ed's hand. He looks up at him.  
  
"Better, I hope?" Russell asks, unsure, because he's suddenly nervous again. A bed, and everything it implies, is much more real.

"Yeah," Ed says. "It'll be just fine."  
  
He lets go of Russell’s hand, haphazardly unbuttoning his top shirt, and tossing it near the discarded gloves from earlier. He does this partly because, well, it's bugging him - but maybe part of it's a test. While he's still got an undershirt on, this definitely makes his prosthetic arm a lot more noticeable, and maybe Ed wants to see if Russ has forgotten about that. If he'd still be interested after being reminded.  
  
What can he say, he's not always the most confident of individuals.  
  
"Alright," he says, clapping his hands together. "Guess it's time to ride 'round the bases."  
  
That statement probably won't make much sense to Russ. It barely makes any sense to Ed. He's just basing it off some comment Steph made once.

Russell hasn't exactly forgotten about Ed's arm, he just let the fact slide to back of his mind, so that he was vaguely aware of it as just another piece of information about Ed. It doesn't really hit him until he sees all of it.  
  
"I thought you had automail?" he asks before he can stop himself.

Internally, Ed blanches, but he keeps his face straight. After all, questions are fair, right? Can't ignore facts. That's another bad way of dealing with them. "Couldn't bring anything with me," Ed says. "Not across the gate."  
  
He pulls the strap of his undershirt down enough to show the leather strap, before pushing it back up. "My father managed to imitate the automail well enough, but it's not really like it. It needs some help."  
  
Ed's eyes hint that while it's fine to ask about the automail, any questions about the word 'father' will totally be rebuffed at the moment. Violently, if necessary.

"It's fine...I mean, I don't really know much about it but...it looks good."   
  
Russell is rambling and he knows it. He's not really sure if he should ask about the gate, so he doesn't, and neither does he mention Ed's father. And if Ed needs reassurance that Russell is still interested, well...Russell reaches out a hand to Ed's fake one.  
  
"Can you feel?"

"I couldn't ever feel in that one," Ed says. "They can make the nerves hook up, but it doesn’t extend to the surface. The only way I'm gonna feel anything is if the connection's jeopardized."  
  
He smiles wryly, sounding a bit moody. "Is this really what you're interested in? Talkin' about my prosthetics? 'Cuz I can go try to find someone way more suitable if you're lookin' for that..."

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." Russell stammers, looking away and he feels for a moment like he can't say anything right. So he doesn't say anything at all and instead pulls Ed towards him and into a kiss, one hand clenched in Ed's shirt and the other lightly touching his waist.

Ed's lips move, automatically kissing back before he realizes it, but he stands stock-still where he is. After a moment, he raises a hand, and pushes against Russell’s chest.  
  
"Shit," he says. "That's what I meant out there, I get like this, crappy and stupid and you don't deserve it, all you were trying to do was be nice, and I..."  
  
He trails off, losing the path of his words. "Shit," he finally adds, again, as if that sums everything up into one word.

"Do you tell that to everyone you meet?" Russell asks shortly. And by meet, he really means like. "Or are you making up an excuse for me?" Russell doesn't intend for that to sound harsh, but it may just come out that way.

Ed narrows his eyes. "I don't make excuses," he declares vehemently, sounding completely confident about this fact and lying straight through his goddamn teeth.

"Then what are you doing?" Russell is completely serious about this because it sure feels like Ed is trying to back out.  _Are you afraid?_  he wants to ask,  _because you're not the only one._ "Because it seems to me that I should be the one to decide whether or not I deserve something."

"I," Ed says, and he suddenly completely unsure of himself. "What?" He didn't expect to be called out like this, and it shows.

"Stop making things more complicated than they need to be," Russell says, a bit more gently. Of course, it's something that Russell has been trying to work on himself, so he's not sure how much advice he can really give on the subject. "Especially this." Even though _this_ is probably the most complicated thing Russell has ever dealt with.

Ed looks supremely frustrated. "So what do you propose I do, then?" he asks. He puts his hands on his hips.

Russell wants to pull Ed closer. "Quit over thinking," he says simply, “and quit making excuses." He doesn't care that Ed said he didn't, because it sure sounded like an excuse to him.

Asking Ed to stop over-thinking something is like trying to ask a fish to stop thriving in water. It doesn't quite work, unless you back it up with some form of action.  
  
"But," Ed says, objecting a little too quickly.

Russell gives Ed a pointed look as if to say 'see?' and a small shake of his head. "Just try it?" his tone is slightly pleading and he tugs on the bottom of Ed's shirt a little giving him a small smile. The  _for me?_  is left unsaid.

Ed looks startled at this. Nobody really calls him on his bullshit like this - at least, not without yelling or throwing things to accompany it. And yet Russ is, and Ed just doesn't - he doesn't see why the guy is spending the time trying, but maybe he should try harder before Russ realizes it's all a waste.  
  
"Maybe you can show me how," he says, hesitantly.

Russell takes Ed's hand and entwines his fingers.  
  
"You were doing okay earlier," Russell says, and if someone were to say that he looked coy, well, Russell would deny it. "Just...do what you were doing then."

"Just okay?" Well. Russ couldn't have picked a better way to phrase it. Ed narrows his eyes, pulling his hand out of Russell’s hold. He presses both his hands against Russ chest and shoves, knocking the guy over onto the bed. "Just okay?"

Russell sprawls across the bed in a very undignified manner. To make up for it, he tries to take Ed down with him.

"That's what I said." Smirk. "Want to make me change my mind?"

"Yeah," Ed says, "as matter of fact, I do."  
  
He refuses to be taken down, managing to keep his balance, looking down at Russ. "But I dunno," he says. "If you're not going to appreciate it..."  
  
There's a hint of a smirk starting to develop, he's letting himself give into the situation, because he did promise to try. Trying just... involves teasing, apparently.

"Oh, I'm sure I will, don't worry."  
  
He sits up and rests on his elbows, shaking his hair out of his eyes so he can look at Ed. As much as he wants to, Russell still manages to resist the temptation to pull Ed down. But only just. "So what are you still doing up there?"

"Because," Ed says, "apparently, I'm insane."  
  
He brings a knee onto the edge of the bed, crawling forward until he can settle himself by straddling Russ. "Things aren't quite even, are they?" Ed asks, running a hand over the buttons of the other boy's shirt. "Have you got a shirt under there?"  
  
He's not sure how comfortable he would be with removing shirts entirely, right now. But he definitely wants to see more skin.

Russell is speaking much more confidently than he feels right now but he's good at things like that.  
  
"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he says automatically, hardly daring to breathe and hoping that he wasn't turning pink. Maybe just a little pink. But that's okay, because Ed is too.  
  
"Yeah, alright," he says, and considers this for a moment. He pulls at the bottom of Russell’s shirt, untucking it the rest of the way, before shoving his hand under. A bit of groping around for material reveals that yes, Russ is wearing an undershirt, so he pulls his hand back out.  
  
"'Scuse the impoliteness," he says, even though he really doesn't mean it, and instead of bothering to unbutton the shirt, he just pulls at it until a few buttons pop off.

Russell sits up as best he can, shrugging out of his suspenders not even complaining about the missing buttons.  
  
"Thought you might need some help..." Russell says, though there isn't much teasing in his tone. He glances at Ed hesitantly before starting to work on the rest of them.

"Aw," Ed says. "Takin' away all my fun." Or maybe Russ was just saving himself a sewing job. He doesn't sound _too_ disappointed about it, though; he reaches out to undo the last button, pulls the shirt off and discards it to the floor.  
  
Not everything is revealed, the undershirt is still there, but Ed still has to run his hand over the unflawed skin he uncovered. With his own experiences, it's a bit of a novelty to him, for someone to manage to get through their life so unmarked.

There are things that Russell doesn't talk about, things that leave invisible marks, but he is definitely not thinking about any of those things right now. Instead, he leans into Ed's touch, fingers inching up to Ed's thighs, resting, barely touching, before snaking one arm around to his waist. Russell hides his face in Ed's hair, somewhat self-consciously, and lets out a held breath against his neck.

Ed closes his eyes when Russell’s fingers come to rest on his thighs, exhaling a hot breath of his own, right into Russell’s ear. It's not the first time that his hands have been there, and it's just as distracting as the last time. "You know what you are?" he asks, his voice barely above a mutter. "Yer a really fuckin' hot tease, that's what you are."

Russell really doesn't mean to be a tease, so he's not sure whether he should apologize to Ed or take it as a compliment. But the way Ed said it, the tone of his voice, is enough to make Russell pause.  
  
"Do you want me to stop?" And, somehow, it makes him sound as innocent as he actually is.

Ed considers this, considers the fingers on his thighs, and his body involuntarily shudders, just a little. "Hell no," he says, with emphasis. He didn't say it was a bad thing.

Russell increases the pressure by gripping slightly and then running the heels of his hands over the black fabric. He hands stray to the outside, following the seams like he's afraid of getting lost along the way, before reaching back to Ed's hips.  
  
His hands rest there for a moment, one moving to rest at his lower back, drawing spirals and circles, the other moving its way over to Ed's stomach and up to his chest. He circles one shoulder, before tracing the line of Ed's arm downward, Russell's own eyes following its progress.  
  
All the while, Russell's breathing is uneven and he may be shaking a little himself.

"Shit," Ed says, with feeling. "Do you have any idea what that makes me want to do to you?"  
  
Wasn't he the one that was supposed to be a prude, here? One can suppose that teenage hormones change a lot of things when triggered.

Russell has a pretty good idea at this point but right now he's the one starting to feel like a prude. It's quite an achievement with all those hormones, anyway. He stops what he's doing for a moment.  
  
"Um?" Russell’s face feels hot, again.

In the absence of touch, Ed grabs each of Russell’s hands with his own, holding them tight. He's not sure how much more he can handle at this point, not that much, not...  
  
He kisses Russ hard, harder than before, more passionately, trying to pour all his desperation into this kiss, instead of doing everything that he wants to do. He's not ready for that, and he doesn't know that Russ would be, either.

Russell is glad that he doesn't need to pretend to be smug or snarky right now because he doesn't think he'd be able to at this point. And it's a good thing Ed doesn't want to go any further because that saves Russell from having to stop him.  
  
So Russell just leans into Ed, into the kiss, making it his way of saying sorry, like he feels the need to apologize for something. Even though he doesn't.

The kiss lasts as long as Ed is able to make it - as long as he's able to go before losing his breath. When he finally breaks it off, he's gasping a bit, and stares into Russell’s eyes for a long moment.  
  
"Okay," he says, finally, his voice low. "We're not going under the belt. Anything else...?"

It takes Russell a second or two to remember how to speak again. "If it's too much, I'll let you know."  
  
He squeezes Ed's hands for reassurance because Ed is still holding his. One thing he knows for sure is that he doesn't want the kissing to stop.

"Yeah," Ed says. "Okay."  
  
He places a hand on Russell’s cheek, fingers caressing gently, before he slides his hand down and around to the back of the other boy's neck. He leans in and nips at Russell’s lip, just once - but doesn't kiss again, not just yet.

Russell leans in instead this time, bringing one arm under Ed's, palm against shoulder blade, the other hand sliding into his hair.  
  
Russell's fingers fumble for the string that is holding Ed's hair back until he finds the end and tugs, letting it fall loose. He gives Ed a quick kiss before resting his forehead against Ed's, simply letting his fingers slide through the other boy's hair.

Russell has managed to find his weak spot. Ed closes his eyes, managing a sound that comes across just a little like a purr. "Yeah," he mumbles, even as he presses his lips to Russell’s neck again. "Keep doing that."

At any other time, Russell probably would have made a comment about cats. But now... Russell knows when to keep his mouth shut, or not, with the way things happen to be going. Russell's pleased grin is hidden from Ed but it may be noticeable in his voice when he says, "now you know what it's like." Because when Ed was playing with Russell's hair earlier, he didn't want him to stop either.

"Not sure if I know what you mean," Ed says, pressing his head against Russell’s hand, nudging it a little. "But I'm not sure I wanna try to figure it out." He has better things to be concerned with.

Russell is too distracted to explain anyway, so instead he brings his hand forward to Ed's bangs, brushing them back, out of Ed's face. His other hand is still in Ed's hair, fingertips now reaching to brush the back of his neck.  
  
And even if Ed says he doesn't like cats, well, that doesn't stop Russell from petting his hair like he is one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's easy to forget how young they still are.


	21. Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's guilt gets the better of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's talk of Ed/Roy in this chapter. And some angst.

Ed is sitting outside on a piece of grass at a decent distance from both the lake and the door. He's surrounded by various metal objects - sockets, screws, gears, all this and more. He seems to be putting something together but the identity of it isn't quite obvious, yet. He keeps taking stuff apart before finishing it, so all he's really accomplishing is spreading grease all over his clothes, work-gloves, and a bit on his face. Some even manages to get in his hair, despite the fact he's got a bandanna on to keep it out of his face. Either he's plotting something out, or he's just... really, really bored. Or maybe it's a way to work off stress.

Russell also happens to be outside. In the garden, specifically, so Ed isn't the only one who needs a bit of cleaning up. He was just about to head inside to get rid of all the dirt when he heard the strange clinking and clanking noises from a little way off. Heading over, he grins as he spots Ed, surrounded by various... things.  
  
Russell hovers behind Ed, hands in his pockets. "Making another rocket?"

Ed’s hands still for a moment before he frowns, not turning around. Russell is the reason for Ed’s need for stress relief, at the moment. He’s both relieved to see him and having to resist the urge to run for his life. Instead, he just stares down at the screwdriver in his hand like he could burn a hole in it, ignoring the fact that his cheeks are turning red.  
  
"No," he says. "Not really."

"Oh." Russell pauses, not quite sure if Ed is in the mood for talking. He continues anyway. "What are you making, then?"

"A distraction." Ed's shoulders are a bit hunched, now. His mind is working a mile a minute, fighting with itself as to what to do.

"Well, maybe you could use a different kind of distraction." Russell's tone is light and cheerful. He also won't be offended if Ed wanted to work on his project alone.

Russell’s words trigger a certain flurry of thoughts in Ed's head, ones that Russ may not have meant to trigger, and he drops everything in his hands with a clank of metal. "Oh," he says, his voice squeaking a bit. "I dunno."

"Right." Russell might have intended to imply _Certain Things_ to see if it would grab Ed's attention. He's not sure if it's working. "May I sit?"

"Can't tell you no," Ed says, truthfully. He wouldn't even consider it. Stupid Russ, getting Ed stupidly fond of him. "Go ahead."

Russell sinks to the ground next to Ed, looking at him questioningly. He starts to speak, maybe to ask, 'what's wrong' but changes his mind. Instead, he says, "what are all these things for?"

"Depends on what you're asking about," Ed says. "Like if you're asking about a sprocket, or a gear, or one of the tools... they're each a piece of something bigger." Even the tool can't work if it doesn't have anything to attach to. "They only really do something once it's complete."

Russell looks mildly confused at this information. "You don't carry this stuff around with you all the time, do you?"  Because it all looks like a bunch of fiddly things to him anyway, and Russ still doesn't know what it's going to end up being.

"No," Ed says. "Just today." Ed doesn't seem too interested in the gears and whatnot anymore, though. His voice is distant, and he's staring off somewhere into the distance. Suddenly, though, his eyes harden with determination, and he's back with Russ - and moving himself quickly so that he's kneeling in front of the other boy, instead of sitting next to him.   
  
"You," he says. "I." He pauses. Determination is one thing, but having the words to say it is another. " _I’m sorry_."

The statement catches Russell off guard and he looks at Ed warily, wondering what Ed felt he could have done to make him say those words.  
  
"What are you talking about?" It's a hesitant question because this could not lead to anything good.

"'m sorry," Ed says, and he's not sure how to put this at all, which of course means that it all comes out at once. "I-really-like-you-and-I-made-out-with-you-cuz-I-wanted-to-but-I-had- _have_ -a-boyfriend-and-he-hadn't-been-in-for-several-months-then," he pauses for a breath, "and-I-thought-he-wasn't-coming-back-and-I-didn't-think-and-then-he-came-back-and-I-am-a-screw-up-and-you-should-hit-me." He nods firmly.

Russell may have caught one word out of every ten but he still had no way of knowing what Ed was rambling on about. "Wait, wait," Russell insists. “Say that again?” He sounds slightly put-out about this and looks at Ed pointedly. He’s also a little worried about the words he did manage to catch.

Ed leans forward, holding Russell’s shoulders in his hands, clutching a little too tightly. "I took advantage of you," he says. "Or I enjoyed myself too much. I don't know which. But I was a jerk, and I made out with you, and -- "  
  
He pauses, makes himself breathe. _Make sense, Elric_. "I've got a boyfriend. But he hadn't been by for several months at that point. I thought he was never coming back. And I really, really like you. So I convinced myself it was okay... and it wasn't. Not without telling you."  
  
He looks like he expects to get punched. He looks like he  _wants_  to get punched.

Russell stares at Ed, processing everything. "... why didn't you tell me this before..." his voice catches, "...before... everything?"  
  
If he wasn't in shock, he may have punched Ed, but only maybe. He's still trying to figure out what this all means.

"Because I was an idiot," Ed says. "I was selfish and I was an idiot and I was lonely." His own voice cracks, on the last word. "I shouldn't have done anything, not even if it was two years and he hadn't come back..."  
  
He picks up a nearby wrench, and offers it to Russ. "You should hit me for it. In the face."

Russell ignores the comment about hitting and brushes Ed's hand aside. It hasn't all quite set in yet. He needs to make sure of a few things first.  
  
"So now he's back? And you only used me because you missed him?"  Russell's voice is strained, a sign that his anger may be slowly building up.

"NO!" Ed says firmly and loudly. His eyes are wide and his tone insistent, he needs to prove that what Russ just said is wrong. "I didn't use you! I couldn't use anybody! Do you know how much trust it takes for me to do even a little of what we -- " He cuts himself off, giving Russ a desperate look. "I like you," he says. "And I already told him we have to cool it, I can't just date him - because I like you too."

Russell can tell that Ed is being sincere so he takes a few breaths before speaking again, just to make sure he doesn't come to anymore wrong conclusions. Or say anything stupid.  
  
"I don't understand what all this means," he says truthfully.

"Dating," he says. "I want us to date. I date you, I date him, and you can both date openly too." Ed bites his lip. "I can't choose, the way things are. And I don't want to fuck something up by trying when I'm not ready for it." It may be a selfish statement, but it's all he has.

Russell isn't even sure he gets the whole dating concept. "You mean, you're still going to see him?" He raises his eyebrows. He may even sound a bit jealous, which is also a new thing for him.

"And you." Ed confirms, his voice even more desperate. "It's - it's like you told me. I can't imagine walking away."  
  
His grip grows lax on Russell's shoulders, and he casts his sight downwards. "It's just - we're young. And sometimes people need that step, when they're just kids."  
  
This is the first time since his mother passed that he's ever considered himself anything resembling a child.

Russell's first thought is _I don't want to see anyone else_  and then he listens to what Ed is saying. Really listens. And he realizes that he has time here, that he doesn't need to grow up quickly in this place. It’s not the first time Ed has talked sense into him.  
  
"You're right," he says simply, though Russell still thinks the whole situation is a bit strange. But he'll try it, if it's what Ed wants.

"Yeah?" Ed's eyes clear up a bit at those words. There's still a touch of worry in them, a fear that this is all going to reverse itself in a moment, but - but maybe this is actually going to turn out okay. He'll let himself hope for a moment, and he hardly ever does that.  
  
Russell nods with a soft smile. It's always sensible to not rush things, whether they're experiments or friendships or --  
  
But he does have one question.  
  
"...so what, exactly, would dating entail?" he asks carefully, because Russell has a sudden frightening image of flowers and candy and, well, flowers should really stay in the ground.

"Whatever the hell we want," Ed says, unable to repress a wide grin. "I don't think either of us would go for that mushy crap, but it doesn't mean we can't come up with our own ideas." Like having Russ coming to his world for a visit!  
  
"And lots of making out,” Ed adds. That is _required_. Ed even gives a leer to accentuate the point.

Russell especially likes the idea of that last one if his grin is any evidence.  
  
"Well then, me watching you make... something," he waves his hand toward the machinery, "could be a date, but it's kind of a boring one so far."

"Boring, huh?" Ed scrunches up his nose a little. "We can't leave it that way, especially if it's our first one." He glances at Russ. "Or would it count as our second?"

Russell thinks this over. "I think this should count as the first one." Pause. "What do you think we should do?"

Ed considers, and then he remembers something, and smiles a little fondly. "You could show me your garden," he says. "Where you've planted everything you couldn't fit in your room."

For some reason, Russell is a little surprised Ed would ask. But he nods anyway, obviously pleased. "I could do that," he says, standing, and holding out his hand to Ed.

Ed accepts his hand, pulling himself to his feet. "Lemme just get my tools," he says, and starts gathering them up to stick back in the toolbelt around his waist. They're pretty important to him, Roy gave them to him. But he's not mentioning that fact right now; he's not suddenly an idiot.

"The garden is this way," he says, when Ed is finished, setting off in that direction. He looks back at Ed with a small smile.

"Okay," Ed says, and quickens his steps to catch up. When they're side by side, he catches Russell’s hand in his own, in one casual movement.

Russell squeezes Ed's hand lightly. It's a short walk to the garden and Russell leads Ed over to where he had been working that morning: a pair of lemon trees about Russell's height, near the back and out of the way of all the smaller plants. It's the only thing he's really planted for fun, everything else being used solely in his research.  
  
"I brought them from home," he says simply, "it's hard to find good lemons in central."

"This 'cuz of Belsio?" Ed inquires, studying the lemon tree. "Or do you just like 'em?" He makes a mental note in his head about this. It's a good thing to keep a tally of what Russ likes.

"A bit of both," Russell admits. "Belsio always had baskets and baskets of them around." He has a bit of a wistful look on face; it's been quite a while since his last visit.  
  
"I work on the rest of the garden too, but these are mine," he points out the small plot of land that contains a collection of herbs and various other small plants with a few arrays etched in the soil. "Some of them are even from Earth." He looks at Ed after he says this, wondering if he will recognize any of them.

"From Earth?" Ed looks a little puzzled, and kneels at the edge of the plot of the land, looking over the greenery presented before him. "How did you get ahold of those...?"

"I met someone from Earth a while ago," Russell explains, "a doctor. She helped me with my research and gave me those plants because we don't have anything like them back home."  
  
Russell pauses for a moment, looking at the ground. "They help cure red water sickness," he says finally.

"They do?" Ed's eyes widen, and he looks up at Russ. "So it's... you've found ways to.... without the stone?"

Russell is being rather modest about this accomplishment, considering what it means. "Yeah," Russell looks over at Ed, "we're still testing it but so far it's working really well." Strange how they had to use something from another world before they could make any progress.

"Then you've done what you meant to do, haven't you?" Ed asks. His face is serious, and he reaches up for Russell’s hands, tugging them to pull Russ to the ground with him. "You've achieved something wonderful, all in your own name."

"Yeah, I guess I have," Russell says, distantly, as he sinks down to lie next to Ed, leaning over him and hands resting on his chest. It doesn't really hit him until Ed says it. He's been working nonstop on that research for so long that he had forgotten how important it really was. How much it meant. He's not done, though, and doesn't think he ever will be.

"It's an amazing thing," Ed says, pushing a hand through Russell’s hair in a caressing motion that he repeats after it's through. "You helped fix tons of people. You  _fixed_  them." He pauses, for a long moment of silence. "I bet your dad would be proud of you," he adds, quietly.

No one's ever put it that way before, not even Fletcher, because they both stopped discussing why they were doing it. It's easy to distance yourself with books and notes. Had he really lost sight of the importance of it so easily?

Russell rests his head on Ed’s chest when he mentions Russell’s father, because that's something he doesn't talk about very much and he's not sure if he can handle talking about it now. He just lays there for a moment before whispering, "thank you," either for the reassurance or the reminder... maybe a little bit of both.

"Yeah," Ed says, and he doesn't press it past that. He just leaves his hand on Russell’s head and pets gently, because he knows how hard it can be to deal with the reality of one's own father. He just... felt like Russ needed to hear that.

Russell's eyes close, letting Ed pet him. "I didn't think we would ever be able to do it," he says finally. It had seemed impossible for a long time but it had been because of Ed that Russell knew he had to find the cure, as much as it had been because the children of the town.

"I knew you would," Ed says. "Because you had really good reasons to do it. And you're the type that doesn't stop until you've done what's right."  
  
And maybe that's one reason he likes Russ so much, even if it took him a while to admit it.

Russell turns to face Ed, looking into his eyes, unsure of what to say. So instead he takes Ed's hand and places a soft kiss on his palm before entwining their fingers together. "You're right, I don't give up easily," he says quietly.

"Yep," Ed says. "I know that." He grins. "And I'm glad you don't, cuz otherwise you'd have given up on me." And that would have sucked a whole lot.

Russell smiles warmly, "and then we would have missed out on this." Not that they would have known what they were missing, but still.

Ed looks him straight in the eyes, the look intense and full of emotion. "I'm glad we didn't." No matter what might happen in the future.

Ed’s look startles Russell. It's a new one for him and he's not quite used to seeing it yet. Especially not when it's directed at him. He absentmindedly strokes the inside of Ed's wrist while smiling down at Ed, keeping his gaze unbroken. He finds he likes it very much.

And that is something Ed isn't used to, either. He flushes a little at the whole thing, and searches for something to say. "You have a nice smile," he finally comes up with, a little unrelated to the whole entire thing.

Russell doesn't mind the compliment, even if he is blushing a little now. "You do too....among other things," Russell says, a bit on the shy side, hoping that it didn't sound as inane as it had in his head.

Ed chuckles. "Among what other things?" he asks, a bit shamelessly.

"Let's see..." Russell begins, pretending to think it over, "how you always manage to find trouble, how you don't like cats..." he trails off. Russell may be teasing but most of what he said is based on truth. He's not yet sure if he could say what the other things are without feeling silly.

"Hey, man," Ed raises an eyebrow, and stretches a little, resting his hand on Russell’s back, "I get into trouble on purpose. It's more fun that way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) There have been a couple hints about this since Ed/Roy was established in game before Russell showed up. I won't add it to the tags since this is the only time it's really mentioned and I won't be adding the Ed/Roy stuff to this fic because I don't think the person playing Roy would appreciate it. (You can read [the threads](http://notashortbean.livejournal.com/) if you want!)
> 
> 2) The screen-cap is one I frequently used during role-play and I loved it so much I made it my Ao3 icon. It's from the movie _Maurice_ (lovely movie, highly recommend, very faithful adaptation of the book).


	22. Poker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russell play the weirdest game of poker ever. They both end up winning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: underage drinking

For the first time in quite a few days, Russell has his microscope in the bar with him. His plants are thriving, the lemon trees especially are getting taller by the day (one being helped along by alchemy, the other not). So tonight, he's taking the time out to look at some new slides, occasionally scribbling something down into a notebook already filled with circles of varying sizes and something vaguely resembling handwriting.

Suddenly, Ed is pressed up against his back, trying to peer over his shoulder. This is something that doesn't really work with a microscope, so he ends up nudging the side of Russell’s head.  
  
"Lemme see," he mumbles. "I want to see what you're doin'!"

"Ow," Russell mutters, having poked himself in the eye in surprise. "Well, I was working," he says to Ed, spinning around on the bar stool to face him. He doesn't sound to annoyed by this, though. "Unless you came to help me?"

"No way," Ed says. "Work's for dummies." This doesn't sound much like him, but the glint in his eyes might not look much like him, either. There's something strange about his demeanor. "All work and no play makes Russ a borin’ stiff."

"I happen to like working," Russell says, a bit affronted. Then he pauses for a moment, catching the smell of something familiar, something that would explain Ed's... weirdness.  
  
"First smoking and now drinking?" Russell raises an eyebrow. "Please tell me you don't go around getting drunk all the time now."

"Nuh-uh," Ed says. "Jus' wanted to relax. Felt like relaxin'. Not smokin' anymore. No reason to." He wraps his arms around Russ and leans in close, making a noise like a cat.

"No reason to get drunk either," Russell says, in an attempt to talk some sense into Ed. Just because he had a bad experience with alcohol once...  
  
"You do know that you smell like alcohol, right?" Russell didn't want to say anything, but with Ed hanging off of him like he was, it was very difficult to ignore.

"It was fun," Ed says. "And I won a lotta money playing poker." This justified it all, he thinks. He pulls back a bit and pouts. "I'm sorry," he says, sounding far sorrier about it than he should. "I can go away?" He’s trying to pull the 'kicked puppy' act, now.

Russell ignores the poker comment, deflating a bit at Ed's expression. "I'd rather you stay here so I can make sure you don't get into any more trouble." Because he'd rather take care of Ed than send him away.  
  
A glass of water appears suddenly on the bar. "Here," Russell says abruptly, shoving it in front of Ed's nose. "Maybe this'll help."

"I think yer s'posed to use coffee," Ed notes. Not that he's planning to drink it, but he does take a sip before abandoning the cup on a nearby stool. "Should be in a booth," he says, tugging a little too hard on Russell’s wrist. "Not 'ere. Booth."

"What's wrong with sitting here?" Russell asks, after being practically yanked off his stool. He'd rather not leave his microscope out but he figures Bar will take care of it for him.

"Y'can take your work with you," Ed says. "But I can't do what I want here." He pulls out a pout. A true, fully formed pout.

Russell is about to ask what it is, exactly, that Ed wants to do, just in case Ed being drunk leads to him doing odd things, but changes his mind.  
  
"Alright," he gives in, turning to make sure Bar takes hold of all his slides, microscope, and notebook. "follow you." He does wonder, though, if Ed always pouts this much while drunk. He’ll probably find out soon enough.  
  
"'Kay," Ed says, and wanders off in a sort of uneven path to an empty booth. He almost trips once or twice, but he manages to save himself. "Siddown," he orders, pointing.

Russell gives Ed humoring look. “Done ordering me around yet?" Russell asks with a hint of a grin.

"Nope," Ed says, and drapes himself over Russ, arranging himself quite comfortably in his lap. "There," he declares, fully satisfied. "Couldn't do that over there without knockin' the stool over." And he's not into concussions, thanks.

Russell wraps an arm around Ed's waist just in case he suddenly loses his balance and topples over. Or something.  
  
"You could find another way to relax besides drinking, you know," Russell says, continuing from earlier.

"'Ey," Ed says, sounding annoyed. "Dun lecture me. I usually don’t. I just felt like it." He was allowed to feel like it occasionally. Anyway, he was so much better about it than the other guys at the rocket house!

"Alright, alright," Russell says finally, "I won't talk about it anymore."  
  
Russell makes an expression that could be describes as 'hmm'. "...what is poker, anyway?"

"Card game," Ed says, and then considers it, grinning wickedly. "We should play. I can teach you."

"I don't know..." Russell is hesitant purely due to the look on Ed's face. "Is it hard to learn?"

"Nope," Ed says. "Not hard at all." He considers, then grins, wickedly. "Y'can get a good prize if you win. A really good one."

Russell wonders if Ed is making the whole thing up just to mess with him. "And what kind of prize would that be?" he asks, playing along.

"Nope," Ed says. "Y'gonna have t'play to find out." Ed somehow manages to stand up in the booth seat next to Russ, instead of sitting in his lap. "Come on, get up. We're gonna go get cards."  
  
He tugs at Russell’s collar and Russell has no choice but to stand, considering the way Ed is manhandling him. He drags himself up and waits for Ed, making sure he'll be able to catch him if he trips.

"Okay," Ed says, "Get ready." Get ready for what, well, he doesn't say - but there's no time to even process the warning, as he hooks his arms around Russell’s shoulders, and pulls himself onto his back.  
  
"To the bar!" He proclaims, pointing the way and expecting Russ to piggyback carry him.

Russell makes a sound like 'ooof' and almost loses his balance as Ed climbs onto his back without much of a warning. It's a scary moment as Russell wobbles a bit before finding his center. He doesn't move yet, though.  
  
"I can't believe you actually want me to carry you," Russell comments. "I could just drop you right here, you know." He hasn't yet, but that doesn't mean he won't.

Ed ignores that entirely. "Go!" He proclaims cheerfully, pointing at the bar, again. He pauses. "Go!" he proclaims determinedly, pointing at the bar, again. One more pause. "Now!"

"You can walk perfectly fine by yourself," Russell insists, trying to pry Ed's arms from around his shoulders to dislodge him, purposefully ignoring Ed's demands.

"That's no fun," Ed insists, holding on tight. "Come onnnn."

It's too bad that Russell isn't mean enough to do something drastic like, say, tie Ed up with a vine. He doubts it would work very well anyway.  
  
"Ed, seriously, no. I am not carrying you across the bar on my back." He figures if he tries to sit down, Ed will change his mind, though that seems a bit tricky at the moment.

Ed squeaks a bit at the process, and pushes at Russell’s back, trying to get him to stay upright. He then pushes his metal limb between Russ and the booth, trying to make the idea of sitting as uncomfortable as possible.

If this keeps up, Russell is going to end up sitting on Ed, so he tries to slide sideways into the booth but it's difficult with the extra weight, so he ends up losing his balance and falling over sideways.

"Gerroff!" Ed says, now just shoving at Russ. He's not even trying to hold on anymore, he's just shoving. "Gerroff, gerroff!" He looks and sounds pretty alarmed.

"Hey, watch what you're doing!" Russell says, trying to get out of Ed's way. He's finally able to jump up out of the booth, this time prepared enough to not stand with his back to Ed.

"Go get the cards!" Ed orders, sounding annoyed and upset, now. He kicks out with both of his legs, not caring which connects. "Come on!"

Russell manages to dodge and heads to the bar just to get away from all the flailing limbs.  
  
"You could try and be nicer," Russell says as he returns, not amused anymore, "and not try to kick me next time."

Ed is kneeling on the booth seat and, by the time Russ comes back, his eyes are already filled with apology. "'M sorry," he says sadly, looking Russ over. "Did I kick you? I can make it feel better. I can make it lots better. Show me where I kicked you? M sorry. Very sorry. Really sorry..." He babbling now.

"Lucky, you didn't get my knee," Russell interrupts. "You can make up for all this when you're sober," Russell tells him.

"Siddown," Ed suggests. "I can make up for it now by teachin' you a new skill, and later I'll make up for it better."  
  
"Here's your cards." Russell slides the deck across the table to Ed.

"'Kay," Ed says, "but I don’t wanna play down here." He wrinkles his nose. "People'll wanna join us.”

Russell is pretty sure that no one would bother them. "You pick the place, then," Russell says anyway, surprising himself by not making an impatient noise. It's quite an accomplishment.

"I dunno," Ed says, and crosses the distance between them by ducking under the table, and crawls into Russell’s lap again. He leans into the other boy's chest. "Somewhere."

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Russell comments, though it seems he has no intention of moving. How often does he have Ed sitting in his lap... even if he is drunk?

The chances of it will likely drastically improve in the future, drunk or not.  
  
"Jus' need a table," Ed says, curling in closer, his breath warm against Russell’s neck. "We've got one, but Al would yell at me." He doesn't feel like getting yelled at about drinking right now. Even Alfons had given him disapproving looks, and that had been far more than enough for one day.

"I don't have one," Russell says, slightly distracted by Ed's proximity, "but that's easily taken care of." Russell knows what an angry brother can be like.

"So long as I'm not carryin' it," he says, forgetting that the bar can, ya know, just add it to a room. Bar could even make Russell’s room big enough for more plants, if he wanted it to.

Russell's first thought wasn't about Bar mostly because he doesn't know Bar can even do that. "You won't have to if I transmute my desk," Russell says, because that should be obvious. He does give Ed some slack because he's sure the alcohol has impaired his thought process.

"Oh," Ed says. "Okay." He considers getting up. He then considers the fact that Russ refuses to carry him. He doesn't get up.

Ed can try talking him into it all he wants but there is no way Russell is going to carry Ed up the stairs. He doesn't really mind Ed's decision not to move, anyway… Maybe if Ed promises some pretty wild things…  
  
"D'you know how to shuffle?" Ed asks, sliding his arms around Russ, pushing cold hands under Russell’s shirt.

"No," Russell gasps out at the contact, though he knows Ed's hands will warm up soon enough. "Maybe you could teach me?"  
  
Ed tries to pull the pack out of Russell’s hands but he only succeeds in ripping the box enough that some cards flutter out. He pouts.

Russell snatches his hand back before Ed manages to lose the rest of the deck. "What about the rest of the game?"

Ed considers how to explain it, but he hasn’t completely figured it out himself, yet. But he gives it a valiant try. "Deal out five cards," he says, pressing his face into Russell’s neck again. "Five for you, an' five for me."

As the very unprofessional dealer that Russell is, he carelessly dumps the cards out of the box so that they slide all over the table. He separates a few cards out one handed, trying not to be distracted by Ed.  
  
"Alright, and then?" he asks, one hand reaching around Ed probably more than is strictly necessary to grab the rest of the cards.

"Usually don't do it this way," Ed mutters, "but tell me what we each have. Read 'em out." He doesn't even bother to glance at the table. "An' then I'll explain what happens next." He nuzzles Russell’s neck, still pressed in close, his hands still under Russell’s shirt. They're getting warmer, now.

Russell has both arms wrapped around Ed so he can hold his cards - not that he needs an excuse - while he looks over Ed's shoulder so he can read them.  
  
"Er... I didn't know these cards had leaves and clovers on them," Russell sounds a bit puzzled by this. Poor thing has never seen a deck of cards in his life.

Ed peers over Russ' shoulder.  
  
"That's a club, that's a spade, that's a heart, and that's a diamond," he says, tapping each type in turn. "A K is a king, a Q is a Queen, a J is a Jack, an A is an Ace. We're playing aces as the highest kind of card."  
  
He then ignores the cards again, pressing his mouth to Russell’s throat, trying to apply his tongue. But he's a bit too drunk to be successful in anything but slobbering over his neck a little.

"Maybe you should wait until you're not drunk before teaching me how to play." Russell pushes Ed away a bit so he'll stop drooling on him. Which is what it felt like Ed was doing.

"Nuh-uh," Ed says. "I wanna play. I wanna make it fun." He pulls himself out of Russell’s lap and stumbles onto his feet. "Let’s go upstairs.” He starts shoving all the cards into a pile, trying to straighten them so they'll fit back in the box.  
  
"You promise not to jump on my back this time?" Russell asks, warily.

"Uh-huh," Ed says. "Not 'less you want me too." He taps his foot. "Hurry up or I'll go to your room without you!" Not that he has a key, or anything.

"Alright, I'm going," Russell sighs, giving in. "You didn't have to be so bossy." He heads off toward the stairs, deck in hand.

Ed's just bossy, Russ. The quicker he accepts this quality in his boyfriend, the easier a time he’ll have.  
  
"Okay," Ed says, now sounding pleased, and scampers up the stairs after Russ.

Russell reaches his door, unlocks it and heads inside, holding the door open for Ed. He decides to change the desk into a table since Ed insisted that they needed one, so he draws a quick array on one side. He can always change it back later.

Ed pushes his foot against the door, thumping it closed with a firm kick. He reaches up and locks it, before dragging the spare chair from the corner. "'Kay," he says. "Deal 'em again. You can do it face up again."

Russell pulls the desk chair over. He's pretty sure that the cards got mixed up enough downstairs so he dumps them out again, giving five to Ed and five to himself. He looks over at Ed expectantly.

"'Kay," Ed says, putting his own cards in order. "Whatcha got? Read em to me."

Remembering the proper names, Russell reads them off, spreading them out in a line.

"'Kay," Ed says, again. "Rules of poker can get complicated, and I might forget some things right now, so we're just gonna go with the easy stuff."  
  
He considers if that makes sense, and decides that it will as they start to play. Ed spreads out his own cards. "Neither of us have any duplicate cards, so we both lose there." Ed reaches out and taps Russell’s cards. He grins. "An' I've got an ace, which is the highest card, so I win."

Everything that Ed has just said made no sense at all to Russell. He frowns slightly. "Just like that?" Russell says in response to Ed's win. "That was a bit fast."

"Not just like that," Ed says. "That was just a hand. We pick somethin' to wager, and we keep playin' until someone's lost all of it."

"I don't have anything to wager," Russell comments. Except plants, he had a lot of those. He didn't want to lose them, though.

Ed snorts. "You've got more than you think." He grins, then, and there's a wicked look in his eyes. "How 'bout this," he says. "If one of us wins, we get to pick what the other one loses." And before he gives Russ any chance to think it over, he's holding his hand out. "I want your suspenders. Not forever. Just for right now."

"What?" Russell narrows his eyes at Ed. "Why?" He doesn't see the point, sadly.

"You agreed to play," Ed says, and snaps his fingers. "So hand 'em over."

Russell sighs, shaking his head, but he shrugs out of his suspenders anyway and gives them to Ed. "This is a strange game," he mutters.

Ed grins. "You'll get the hang of it," he assures, and then grabs for the cards. He deals out five for Russ, and five for himself. "I've got a pair of eights," he says, smugly. "An' another pair, at that. Lemme see yours."

Russell lays his out. He doesn't have any pairs and he's still not sure what beats what. "How will I know when I win?"

"You'll win," Ed says, "if any of your cards go in order, or if you get multiple of the same card. Or if neither of us gets any of that, whoever has the highest card of all." He points right at Russell’s cards. "You lose. Again."  
  
Instead of asking for winnings this time, he shakes his boot off, pressing his flesh foot against Russell’s ankle. He pushes it up underneath the hem, curling his toes against Russell’s leg.

Russell looks at Ed in surprise, trying to figure out if this is part of the game or part of Ed being drunk. Not that he minds what’s happening, of course. "What's the wager this time?" he asks.

"You have to put up with me touchin' you," Ed says, as if that's much of a wager at all. "Deal 'em out."

There's a hint of a smile on Russell's face as he deals the next hand and checks his cards. He recognizes the pair of fives, hoping that it's enough to win this round. He looks over to see what Ed got.

Ed frowns down at his own. Apparently being drunk means he turns into a sore loser so he drops his foot onto the ground and crosses his arms. "Alright," he grumbles. "Take what you want."

Russell deliberates over his choices, probably longer than necessary, before deciding. "Your jacket," he says, figuring it’s equal enough to Ed taking Russell's suspenders.

"What, that?" Ed shrugs it off and tosses it over.

Ed deals the cards to himself and then to Russ, frowning down at his own again. Maybe he can win with a Queen.

Russell looks at his, hoping for another win. He checks his highest card against Ed's then looks up in confusion. "We both have queens," he comments. "What does that mean?"

"It means we both win," Ed says. "So we both give somethin' up." He grins at Russ. "You choose first."

"Let your hair down," he tells Ed, without hesitation. Yes, Russell has a weakness. He doesn't even think about what Ed might ask for.

"No," Ed says, in return. "You do it." That's his end of the bargain.

Even better, Russell can't help but think. He crosses to Ed's side of the table, behind his chair. He lets his fingertips linger along Ed's neck before moving up to brush the hair out of his eyes where some had fallen out of his ponytail already. He smooths his hands slowly back toward the loose string, almost massaging, until he reaches it and unties it completely. As Ed's hair falls, Russell runs his fingers through it once more before sitting back down, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Ed closes his eyes when Russ follows the command, making a pretty noise to reward the actions. And when Russ finishes and sits down, Ed mumbles something that sounds a little like: 'meanie'.  
  
"Gonna hafta get you back worse for that," he says, finally opening his eyes and narrowing them.

Russell ignores Ed's comment, looking rather pleased with himself. He picks up the deck of cards again, dealing five each. He spreads his out, satisfied with a King, and looks expectantly over at Ed.

When Ed’s Ace hits the table, he just smirks Russell. "Go downstairs," he says, "And get yerself a drink. Or get a bottle. We gotta even the terms."

Russell fully expected to return with a bottle of water or something equally as harmless, but it seemed Bar had other plans. A bottle of rum and two small glasses had been waiting for him when he went downstairs and no amount of pleading had changed that. A grumpy looking Russell sat back down at the table, glowering at Ed.  
"You get the first drink," he says as a form of revenge, even though Russell knows Ed has had enough already.

"What," Ed says, "You want me to drink more?" But, fine. He fills up both glasses and grabs his own, tossing it back easily. His face flushes a bit more, not from any sort of embarrassment, but from the addition of new alcohol to his body. "Go," he orders, while he grabs the cards back and shuffles them badly.

Russell eyes the glass, remembering what had happened the last time he'd been around alcohol. Better to get it over with. He downs it, making a face at the taste and hoping Ed wouldn’t make him drink more.

"Good boy," Ed compliments him, sloppily dealing out some cards. "A pair!" he proclaims, loudly.

"A higher pair," Russell says smugly, laying his cards flat so Ed can see them. Russell feels like he's understanding this game slightly better now, so he looks at Ed, deciding what to make him do.  
  
"You can't make me take another drink until you win," Russell says, deciding to be generous. He may be overly confident about his chance at winning right now.

"Wha," Ed gapes for a moment, then laughs. "You’re getting too cocky," he says. "Gonna lose next time." He slaps his hand against the table. "Cards!"  
  
Russell deals Ed's cards to him hoping he didn't hurt himself with his last wager.  
  
Ed smirks again. It might not be a loss, but it is a tie. He slumps down in his seat, running his foot up Russell’s leg again, but on the outside of the fabric. When he reaches Russell’s thigh, he stops, pressing his foot into the muscle and massaging with his toes.  
  
"Gonna let me keep doin' this," he declares, "'Till I've lost three times. Ties don’t count."

Russell makes a strangled sort of noise as Ed's foot moves. "Your shirt," Russell manages to say through the distraction, "I want... your shirt." It's the only thing he can think of that could match Ed's bargain.

Equal, huh? Except for the fact Ed's wearing his usual undershirt beneath it. He peels off the red shirt anyway, tossing it at Russell’s head.  
  
"Shoulda asked for both of ‘em," he states, goosebumps forming where his undershirt doesn't cover. It's time for another deal. "Pair," Ed says, separating them out.

Russell let’s Ed shirt drape off of him where it landed and glances nervously at his own hand. He sighs. So much for hoping for a winning streak.

"Ooh," Ed says. "Soo close. But sooo far." He grins. "You have t’ take another drink, now."

Russell scowls, pouring himself a glass. He drinks it quickly hoping it will burn less on the way down, but no such luck. He can already feel the alcohol starting to work on him. Russell pulls the deck towards himself, ready to deal the cards for the next hand. This time, Russell is relying on an Ace.

Ed turns his own cards over one at a time and, with every card he turns over, he presses down a little harder with his toes, revealing another win. "Hmmmm," he says. "Now I wan' _your_ shirt, too."

Russell had expected that.  He unbuttons it slowly, watching Ed the entire time, trying not to focus too much on what Ed's foot is doing because he would quickly lose track of what was going on if he did. He tosses his shirt across the table to Ed with a smirk, still wearing his undershirt.

Ed grabs it and slips it on, leaving it unbuttoned. It's too big for him, but he doesn't mind, and he's enjoying the scent of Russ that it leaves him with. "Right," he says, and deals out again. "'Nother pair," he says, and tries not to look too cocky. He slides his foot up just a little more.

It difficult trying to stay on track with Ed's foot and the alcohol messing with his mind, but he does manage to check his cards. All. Hearts. He glances up at Ed. "I think I won this round," he grins.

"Aw," Ed comments. "Gettin' smart, aren't you?" He looks a bit proud, actually. Russ had deduced that rule all by himself, without even being told. "Your hand, then," he states. "Whatcha gonna make me do?" He looks eager to find out.

Russell's mouth quirks upwards automatically. Alcohol could easily be blamed for the fact that not only is this expression slightly evil, it may also have a bit of a leer to it. "Come over here," Russell says, voice deep, his eyes intense on Ed.

"Well," Ed says. "Since your twistin' my arm about it..." His voice has just a touch of a purr to it, as he stands up and heads over. He's not going to deny the fact that Russ is being hot, and he likes it. "'m here," he says, planting his feet in front of the other boy. "What now?"

Without any warning, Russell grabs Ed by the collar ( _of his own shirt_ and Ed really should wear his shirts more often, Russell thinks) and pulls him onto his lap. He isn't sure if winning this round was more for himself or Ed because, at this moment, Ed is being kissed, very deeply, by Russell, whose hands are still clenching his shirt. He doesn't seem to want to stop.

"Ngh," Ed manages to express, wriggling a bit until he's settled more comfortably in Russell’s lap. He wraps his arms around the other boy, kissing back just as intensely - they may be wagering something here, but he doesn't see a reason they can't take a break.

It's certainly a very enjoyable break, especially since Ed's wiggling has Russell thinking about other things. Like how he can't seem to figure out why they were playing a game when they could have been doing this all night.  
  
"Does this mean... the game's over... and I win?" Russell manages to ask in between kisses.

Ed very, _very_ briefly considers this but, no, it would be too easy. Instead, Ed manages to summon enough willpower to pull his lips off Russell’s, and slam his palm against the table. "No!" he says, fiercely. "I c'n still beat you!"

"Are you sure about that?" Russell challenges, more to see Ed's reaction than actual confidence in winning himself. But hey, if Russell gets lucky and wins anyway, he won't complain. Russell reaches for the cards.

"Who's the one that just started learning 'ere, buddy?" Ed asks, and grins widely. "An' who's the one who still hasn't succ - succee - got enough wins to stop me from touchin' you?" He might stumble over a word or two in there, but he does have a point, and he doesn't waste any time proving it. Ed slips out of Russell’s lap, letting himself drop to his knees on the ground. He pushes Russell’s knees apart, one hand staying on his knee to help keep his balance, and the other bunching up Russell undershirt.  
  
Ed's leans forward then, hot breath on Russell's exposed stomach, lips almost touching... "Deal 'em," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Russell's breath hitches in surprise and he grabs Ed's bicep as a reflex, as more of an attempt to keep himself grounded than to stop him. Ed certainly has ways to keep Russell from talking. This, apparently, is one of them and Russell vaguely wonders what else Ed can do to shut him up.  
  
It’s going to be difficult to deal cards in his current state, but Russell didn't want to give Ed the satisfaction of being completely distracted.  
  
Russell tries very hard to concentrate on dealing the cards and even manages a quick glance at his own. "What do you have?" he says, somehow able to keep his voice steady.

"I dunno?" Ed asks, glancing up at Russ from his position. "Too comfortable t'move. You tell me." He leans in again, lips grazing over Russell’s stomach in a flutter of light kisses.

Russell grips Ed's arm tighter in response and takes a quick glance at Ed's cards. Looks like he's lost this round to a pair of Aces. He decides to bluff. "All you need to know is that I won."

"Oh, really?" Ed settles back on his feet and raises an eyebrow. "An' why should I trust you on this?"

If Russell looks disappointed by Ed moving away, he's very good at hiding it. He shrugs, "you could look for yourself and then you wouldn't have to take my word for it."

Ed smirks at him, the facial expression almost feral. "I could do that," he says. "But do you really want me to move away from you right now?" His voice is suddenly very clear.

Russell pulls Ed close, harshly, by his shirt yet again. "Not at all," he replies, breath ghosting across Ed's face as he leans down.

Ed closes the distance between them, nipping at Russell’s lower lip. He grabs at Russell’s rolled up undershirt, wrinkling it even more by clutching it. The hand on Russell’s knee slides slowly up his leg until it's dangerously close to certain sensitive places, he leans in for another kiss, and --   
  
\-- he lets go, stands up, and brushes off his pants as if there was dust on them. "Well," he says. "I better go check on my hand."

Russell makes a weak whimpering noise as Ed leaves him there in rumpled clothing, completely confused and nowhere near as thoroughly kissed as he would like. This called for payback, and Russell knew exactly what he was going to do. If only he could win a hand.

"Yep," Ed says, as he gets back to his seat. "Looks like I won again." But he thinks he's done enough to poor Russ already - they can move on to another one. First, though, he takes a minute to study the pretty picture that is a disheveled Russell.  
  
"We gotta do this more often," Ed comments to himself, then deals out the cards. He's got a couple of tens, a three, a two and an ace. Nothing big, but maybe he'll win again. He's won on worse.

Russell doesn't exactly know what a Royal Flush is but that doesn't stop him from recognizing a win. Because if all hearts can win a hand, then all hearts in order was probably an even better one. He lays his cards down with a triumphant smile, raising an eyebrow at Ed, and waiting to see his reaction. And if Ed noticed a piece of chalk in Russell's hand, well, he couldn't do anything about it.

Ed's too busy being shocked by exactly how badly his ass has just been kicked. "Um," he says, his mouth opens a little. "Whoops." He's about to pay.

Russell hopes to catch Ed off guard and, thankfully, there's a plant close by that will work perfectly for what he plans to do. In a quick flash of light, vines appear, racing across the floor to loop up around Ed's ankles, and then his arms, effectively binding him to his chair.  
  
But Russell's planned torture doesn't end there.  
  
He moves to stand in front of the chair, running a finger along Ed’s jaw, tracing down to his throat, before he splays his fingers on Ed's chest.  
  
"Let's see how you like it," Russell says, in a tone he doesn't think he's ever used before, deep and rich and taunting. He kneels in front of Ed, sliding both hands under Ed's shirt, slowly pushing it up as far as it will go. He takes his time, all the while never letting his eyes leaves Ed's. Russell wants to see every second of his reaction.  
  
Russ trails his fingertips back down along Ed's sides to rest at his hips, gripping tightly. He breaks eye contact and leans in to kiss his way back up Ed's chest, sometimes licking, sometimes biting. He leans back to look at Ed again with a smug smile, his fingers moving along Ed's hips.

Ed was ever so confident before. He was smug and smirking and pulling out all the stops to prove that he could gain the upper hand on Russell Tringham - and yet, as always, Russ has got him back here again. Right on the bottom, frustrated for his lack of footing, and at least one or two steps behind.  
  
... but this time, he's really not objecting. "You're," Ed says, and his voice breaks. He swallows and tries again, voice not working for a moment. When it finally does, it's not much better than a squeak. "I. You're -- "  
  
\-- apparently stealing all the language capabilities from Ed's mind. He finally gives up and makes a noise, a desperate sort of whine. It's not something that he knew that he could produce, before, and he's not sure he likes the sound.

Russell is obviously pleased by Ed's reaction and lets Ed know by leaning up to kiss him. It's a short kiss, though, because Russell still has other ideas. Like blatantly eying Ed, up and down, the leer he wore earlier in the night now fully fledged. A look rich with appreciation and something that could resemble hunger. His fingers dance back up along Ed's ribs and if they happen to brush a nipple on the way, then it could possibly be labeled as an accident.   
  
"What were you saying?" Russell asks, managing to make it sound like an innocent question, a tone completely at odds with his actions.

"Sayin'..." Ed almost has a smart remark for him, but he stops and thinks better of it. It might be a good thing to be careful with his words right now, otherwise he could end up being left like this and untouched - and how bad would that be?

"...please?" Ed’s not sure what he's asking for, exactly, but his voice is properly petulant.

As much as Russell wants to continue what he's doing, he can't forget that this is payback for Ed leaving him stranded. So he backs off, a bit regretfully, with one last burning look, before returning to his seat. He still has a smug look on his face as he loosens the vines, freeing Ed. "Not unless I win another round," Russell says, shaking his head.

"What," Ed starts, and nearly shrieks at that statement. "But with your lousy play at cards --!" He pushes the vines off and casts a contemptuous look at them, before giving Russ a Look. "Gonna get you back worse," Ed mutters. "Much worse." He pushes his shirt down with a Huff.

Russell holds off from saying 'I look forward to it' because he would rather Ed think that he was worried about the payback Ed had in mind. So, Russell gives him a look of indifference and gathers up all the scattered cards so he could deal the next round. At this point, it won’t matter if he wins or loses the next hand because, either way, he's looking forward to it.

"Do we even care about this game anymore?" Ed asks, raising his voice a little. Apparently, his payback is to act and sound whiny, and he's proceeding to do so. "Does it even matter?" He pouts.

"I haven't cared about this game for the past few hands," Russell replies distractedly, letting the cards he was holding fall to the table an onto the floor. He stares at Ed as the mental image of him being tied up again makes Russell lose his train of thought. He can't seem to concentrate. Understandable.

"Then what the _fuck_ ," Ed says, "Are we doing still playing it." He claps his hands and slams them onto the table, turning it back into the desk it's supposed to be; he then kicks it, sending it sliding back into the wall with a 'thump'.  
  
He stares at Russ across the now empty space, silently daring him to be the first one to cross the distance.

Russell can't stop himself from closing the space in a few short steps. "It was your idea," Russell reminds him, leaning down to whisper in Ed's ear. Not that he's complaining.

"'M drunk," Ed informs him. "You’re the responsible party. Coulda put an end to it before." Debating why they were still playing the game was just as stupid as still playing it, so Ed doesn't even give him a chance to answer. He just reaches up and yanks hard at the front of Russell’s shirt, almost tearing the fabric as he pulls him into a hard kiss.

Russell realizes quickly that the half-leaning position is not very comfortable, but he attempts to ignore it, crouching down and moving his lips across Ed’s jaw and down to kiss and lick at his neck, dragging the tip of his tongue along Ed's collarbone. Russell's hands are gripping Ed's waist before they start to sneak up underneath his shirt again.

"You’re too damn tall," Ed grumbles. "S'messin' everythin' up...."  
  
Because the problem would never be that he's too short, oh no. And even though he's enjoying what Russ is doing now, he pushes him over onto the floor, anyway. He's gotta level it out somehow and it's not as if he doesn't go to the floor with him. It just means Ed ends up on top.

They always seem to end up in the strangest places: booths, desks, the floor... but Russell doesn't care enough yet to do anything about it.  
  
"You'll just have to get used to it," Russell comments lazily, pulling Ed down for another kiss. At another time, Russell may have said something about Ed's height but right now he rather likes what's happening and doesn't want to risk getting kicked. He really can't help it if his hands wander a bit.

Not only does Russ not risk getting kicked, but he earns points for the fact that Ed said something about Russell’s height, and nothing got said back at all about Ed's. And in a situation like this, well... points are a very, very good thing.  
  
"You know," he expresses. "You’re a nice guy. A really -- nice guy." He's probably rambling, but he's also drunk, so that's okay. "Been trying to do so much for me..."  
  
He tries to pull Russell’s undershirt off at the same time as all of this babbling but it doesn’t seem to be working out very well. Russell takes pity on Ed and yanks it off over his head. It probably helps that Russell isn't as drunk as Ed, though he isn't completely sober either. His head's a bit cloudy but he can handle that.  
  
"Do you always take advantage of nice guys?" Russell quips, throwing his shirt to the side before letting his fingers linger at the hem of Ed's shirt. It may be difficult to tell who was really taking advantage of who here.

"S'not takin' advantage," Ed informs him, a little sternly. "It's havin' a good time." There's a difference. If he needs to prove that, then he will, and maybe he even has an idea or two. He sits up so he's straddling Russell’s hips and grabs his wrists. "Gonna take advantage now," he says determinedly. "Do stuff 'till you beg."  
  
Ed is holding his wrists and making it difficult to move. Russell finds he doesn't mind this at all. "And what kind of stuff would that be?" Russell asks, smirking up at Ed and shifting a bit underneath him.

"Depends," Ed says, and his voice is a little lower now. "What kinda stuff do you want it to be?" Maybe he's remembering to be serious for one moment, even while drunk. Even if it ruins a moment for a minute. "What kinda stuff  _don't_  you want it to be?"

Russell appreciates Ed's concern and forces himself to stop and think for a moment. "I... I'm not sure what I want," Russell says finally, open and honest. Then, feeling like he should give further explanation, he adds, "but... I trust you." He doesn't know if that actually answers the question, but it's truthful and a mark of how far he's come that he can actually say it.

Ed makes a bit of a face. "Them's dangerous words, Russ," he points out. But maybe he's grown a bit, too - because he'd have spent some time before, hammering it to death making damned sure that Russell meant it... while now, he can just take it for what it is. It was said, it was done with – so he’ll just appreciate it.  
  
"I - I won't let you down," Ed says, his voice shaky at first but strong at the end. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," Russell says with a smile, "you never have before." He doesn't quite remember when or why he started trusting Ed, but that doesn't really matter. Russell wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it. So, when Russell looks up at Ed, as if in reassurance, his face is finally completely free of masks.

Ed suddenly feels really, really sober. But, despite any opinions he might have held earlier this evening when he first started drinking, it doesn't seem to be a bad thing right now. Because this, right now, is worth being in full control of his senses for.  
  
"You're too nice," he says, quite clearly. "Way, way too nice for me -- " Ed cuts himself off, before he can ruin this by suggesting something like... say, that Russ hasn't been around long enough to get let down, yet. Because that would ruin it and, maybe for once, he can repress his own insecurities far long enough to realize that.  
  
Ed thinks he's got to say something in return, something just as good, but he's not quite sure what. He's bad at expressing feelings, he always has been, but - he's got to think of something. But he doesn't want to babble along to find it, and he doesn't want to have to search around, he wants it to just be obvious --   
  
\-- and then suddenly it is.  
  
"And you won't either," he says, finally, confidently. "I know it. Because I trust _you_." Who has he ever actually said this to, other than Al?

Russell slides his hands free and places them on either side of Ed's face, thumbs rubbing along cheekbones, and Russell doesn't think they need to say anything more at all. What Ed told him has obviously touched him though he knows that he wouldn't have minded if Ed hadn't said anything at all. Trust is too important to force.  
  
The only response Russell gives is to pull Ed down slightly so he could wrap his arms around him, chin resting on his head and breath fluttering Ed's hair.

Ed has a hard time with things being quiet, sometimes - he gets anxious, he feels like the silence needs to be filled with _something_ , and he starts wondering what he should be saying that isn't being said. He's feeling some of that now, but Russell is seeming content with not saying anything else, so Ed just bites his tongue.  
  
This is nice, anyway. It's not what they started with, but it's just as great, and something better to remember. Ed can live with this. He puts his arms around Russ in return, and hugs him tightly, making sure to hold him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a nightmare to edit (I cut back on a lot of Ed's drunken slurring and the detailed lists of cards they drew) but it brought back so many good memories!


	23. Interlude: Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is bored and Russell is the entertainment.

Ed is in the bar zonked out on the couch by the fireplace. He was working on a project, as evidenced by the stack of papers on his chest. He'd been reading them and marking things and carefully laying them aside on the floor as he finished, and he'd made a decent dent. But now he's asleep, so the papers are completely abandoned. He may or may not also be snoring.

Russell makes sure not to mess up the papers as he sits on the edge of a cushion – he doesn't like it when his own notes get disorganized – and shifts over to the end of the couch, lifting Ed's feet to rest them on his lap. Russell decides to let Ed wake up on his own, so for now he just sits, alternating between looking at the fire and looking at Ed.

Russ is being very considerate but, unfortunately for him, Ed is an active sleeper. He immediately senses there is warmth and unconsciously tries to burrow closer. After a minute or two, his feet thump to the ground and he somehow ends up twisting around on the couch. His arm is thrown over Russell’s legs, face almost pressed into his side, with the papers crinkled up underneath him. After all that he is, miraculously, still asleep.  
  
Russell glances around when he feels Ed move and watches, perplexed, as he manages a maneuver that makes Russell wonder if he does that sort of thing all the time. It doesn't look at all comfortable though, so Russell shifts Ed gently until his head is cradled on Russell's lap. One of Russell's weaknesses is Ed's hair so he finds himself petting Ed. Almost like a cat, really.

Ed makes a noise that implies he approves of this, even in his sleep. His hair is one of his weaknesses, too, and he likes when someone touches it. It's even in a ponytail today, which makes it easier to play with. He starts mumbling something in his sleep, but it's not immediately apparent what he’s saying.

Russell laughs softly at Ed's sleepy noises, continuing to run his hands through his hair. He twirls Ed's ponytail in his fingers so that the ends brush across Ed's face, curious to see what else Ed can sleep through.

Ed's nose twitches at this, a bit like a rabbit. His hand goes across his face, trying to brush off whatever's tickling him.

Russell grins, becoming more persistent, trailing Ed's hair to tickle at his nose.

This time, Ed hand flies up and he manages to accidentally slap himself in the face.  ".... ow?" he ventures, sleepily, apparently finding the one thing he _can’t_ sleep through.

Russell grabs Ed's hand so he doesn't accidentally hit himself again. "Nice move, Elric," he teases, even though it's really all Russell's fault.

Ed blinks, his mind still a little fuzzy. He's not quite sure what's going on, but if Russ is here, so - "I bet you had something to do with it," he accuses.

"Maybe. But since you were asleep at the time..." Russell shrugs as if to say, 'no proof!' But, seeing as there's no one else around, it's pretty obvious.

Ed misunderstands what Russ is getting at. "That excuses it, then?" He raises his eyebrows. "I'll have to remember that the next time you're asleep."  
  
It's a good thing Russell is a light sleeper then, Ed won't be able to do anything too crazy before Russell wakes up. "You can try," he grins, sure of himself.

"Might just find some way to record you," Ed grumbles. "Use it to scare people off with." The implication being that _Russ snores._  
  
"That would actually work better for you," Russell replies because, obviously, Ed is mistaken.

"Yeah," Ed says, not at all ashamed of his own snoring. "But I'm not recording me, am I?"

"I'm not letting you get anywhere near me with a recorder," Russell protests. Who knows what could turn up on that thing?

"I could hide it," Ed says, offhand. "You'd never know." He shifts a bit and hears the papers crumple underneath him; he makes a face and stretches to pull them out. After assessing that nothing tore, he just tosses them on the ground. Apparently, he cares less about sorting them than one might think.  
  
"What were you working on?" Russell asks, wondering if boring paperwork is what made Ed fall asleep in the first place.  
  
"Readin' a proposal," Ed said. "We need more funding for the rockets, and I was trying to see if I could make it sound better." Apparently, it still needed a lot of work, if it made him pass out.

"Not having very much luck, then?" Russell asks sympathetically, looking down at Ed. He goes back to playing with Ed's hair again, twirling it around his fingers.

"Not unless we're going to impress them by seeing how fast we can make them fall asleep," Ed says. "This thing is  _really_ boring." He makes a face and shrugs. "But now I have something way more entertaining to keep me awake."

Russell pauses for a moment, "…what kind of entertainment are you thinking of?"

"You," Ed says, and points a finger up at Russ, as if in accusation. "You're the entertainment." He grins. "So, get to entertaining."

Unfortunately, Russell is not someone who can do such a thing on demand. "What, I'm not entertaining enough just by sitting here?" Russell jokes, tugging on Ed's hair a little.

"A little bit," Ed says. "You're something nice to look at, anyway." Apparently it's not enough, though, so he crosses his arms and grins up at Russ.

"Oh, is that all?" Russell comments. "You may have to help me be less boring then." He doesn’t want Ed to fall asleep again.

"I must be pretty boring, too," Ed says, casually, "if you can't even think of anything to be unboring about around me." He stretches a bit on the couch and reaches for Russell’s hand, taking it in his own.

"You're the least boring person I know," Russell protests, and it's true, he can't think of anyone else. Russell lets his other hand fall to where Ed’s shoulder meets his neck, not moving much, just resting lightly.

Ed closes his eyes and exhales, content with a simple touch. "I mean right now," he clarifies, and offers Russ a grin. "But thanks for the compliment." He'll take it as one, anyway, even if some people prefer boring.

Russell smiles in return, trailing his fingers along Ed's collarbone now. "I'm sure I can think of something to distract you from your work," he says, with the look of someone planning something.

"Okay," Ed says. "But you better think quick." He might go back to his work otherwise although he shows no sign of doing so.

"You're going to have to sit up first," Russell tells him, shifting out from underneath Ed so he can sit behind him.

"What," Ed says, his voice a little disappointed. "Really?" But, he asked for Russ to do something, so he can't complain much. He obeys, and sits up. "What now?"

"Now you just relax," Russell informs him. He scoots up closer behind Ed, sliding his hands slowly up Ed's back before reaching his shoulders. Russell has no idea if Ed likes getting massages, but he wants to find out.

They may just find out together since Ed hasn't really had very many of them in his life, so he doesn't know if he likes them, either. Russ has a lot to work against, though, as stress tends to be the mold that holds Ed's life together, and it shows in the tightness of his muscles.   
  
"Relax," he mumbles. "I can do that."

Russell hasn't had the opportunity to give a lot of massages - or any at all, for that matter - but he doesn't think it will be too difficult. Russell does know about stress, though, so he'll try to make Ed comfortable at least. At the least, Russell will enjoy the closeness as he works his fingers into Ed's neck and shoulders.

"Oh," Ed says, a statement that sounds like a cross between realizing what Russ is doing, and realizing that it feels nice. For a first try, Russ is managing it pretty well, or at least Ed thinks so. He tries to think of something else to say, but all he can come up with is that "oh" again, and that's a stupid letter, not a word, so he keeps his mouth shut and sits and let’s Russ work.

Russell gets more into what he's doing and even starts working his way down the middle of Ed's back and along his spine. For the briefest of moments, Russell sweeps Ed's ponytail out of the way and places a light kiss on the back of his neck, before continuing to find more knots to work out. Ed can't see it, but Russell is smiling.

Ed shivers a bit at the kiss; Russ is succeeding at his task and the tension is slowly seeping away. He automatically presses back against Russell's hands a bit, as if to help things along. "Gonna have to figure out somethin' to do in return," he mumbles. "Make it equivalent."

Russell takes the encouragement as a sign that Ed is enjoying this. Russell is enjoying it too; even giving massages seems to have a calming effect.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" Russell asks, leaning forward so that his lips are next to Ed's ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do feel kinda bad about all these "fade to black" moments that we never finished (comment based role-play takes FOREVER) but, don't worry, your patience will be rewarded ;)


	24. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ed's birthday and Russell finally gets to visit the Other World.

In the bar, it's October. But, in Ed's world, it's a very specific date in April - the date being his birthday. This fact would be hard to guess from the annoyed look on his face, but it might be easier to tell from the stack of books next to him, half of which are still covered in various amounts of wrapping paper. He only appears annoyed on his birthday because the door appeared out of nowhere, and now he's sitting here all alone, instead of eating sickening about of his birthday cake.

Russell never forgets a date, especially not one as important as Ed's birthday. Luckily, the Bar and Amestris are on the same timeline for him so Russell has arrived in the bar prepared. He is currently standing off to the side of Ed's table, having just come downstairs. He's also wearing a smirk that makes it seem like he's hiding something. The fact that his hands are behind his back may support this assumption.

Ed's eyes light up a little when he spots Russ – but, soon after, he looks a little wary, suddenly realizing that Russell Tringham had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, is smirking at him, and is wielding some unknown object.  
  
"Um, hi?" he ventures, almost afraid to ask. He's forgotten the date, for a moment.

Whatever Russell is hiding would only be dangerous if he decides to make it do something, so Ed has nothing to worry about. "Are you even going to try and guess what I have?" Because just showing what it is would be no fun at all.

Ed considers this, and raises an eyebrow. "A pack of cards?" he ventures, and can't suppress a small smirk of his own.

Russell actually manages to let that comment slide without so much as a blush, even if it was a very close thing. He shakes his head. “Even better." Because, in Russell's opinion, what he has brings back a more specific memory of something that happened as a result of a certain pack of cards.

"Um," Ed says. "A... cake?" ...Yes, he's still wanting that cake.

"Nope!" Russell says impatiently. Honestly though, it's probably a good thing it's not a cake, Russell doesn't do much baking at home for a reason.

In Ed’s opinion, even if the cake sucked, he would like it anyway because Russ had made it for him. He's sentimental like that.

Russell is too excited about this gift to keep playing along, though, so he takes pity on Ed and shows him what he was hiding. "Happy birthday!" he says happily, presenting Ed with his present: a small potted plant.  
  
Ed likes the plant even better, and it shows in his smile. "What kind is it?" he asks eagerly.

Russell is obviously pleased that Ed asked, though it may be easy to tell what it is anyway just because of the strong scent. "It's lemon balm, you can use it in cooking but I like it better as a tea," Russell explains cheerfully. "And it's good for colds, too," he adds. It's good for more than that, but Russell gives Ed the basics for now. "I can plant it for you, if you'd like," he says, hesitantly.

"Okay," Ed says. "Where would you plant it?" He doesn't exactly have a garden or anything, in the other world.

"There's room in the garden out back," Russell suggests, "I could make you your own spot, if you wanted." Russell doesn't mind sharing.

"Okay," Ed says, and grins. "That way you can make sure I don't kill it, too." He's never been very good with this sort of thing.

"You'll do fine," Russell says with a reassuring smile. He isn't worried, he'll gladly show Ed how to take care of it. "What else did you get for your birthday?"

"Books," Ed says, tapping the pile, "And a cake." Neither of which could really be afforded, but the books are hand-me-downs and at least the cake counted as food.

Russell approves of cake. Especially if it has lemons. "You can't have eaten the entire thing already?" Because Russell only spots the books.

"I could have," Ed says, confident in his eating abilities. "But it got left at home." The door was being stupid… although, maybe it wasn't so bad, because it gave him Russ instead. That's better than cake. Of course, putting the two together would be the best of all.

"Well, we'll just have to get one from Bar, then," Russell decides, because he doesn't want to miss out on cake. "Do you have a favorite?" he asks, though he feels like that is something he should know already.

"Cake," Ed says, "is my favorite." How utterly specific. Which means Russell will just have to surprise Ed, not that he minds, of course.  
  
Russell leaves for a minute and comes back with a round layer caked covered in white whipped frosting with slices of lemons around the top. Hopefully Ed likes citrus!

"You really like lemons, don't you?" Ed says, glancing between the cake and the plant. He's not complaining, but it's an interesting fact to keep in mind. "I'll have to remember that for your birthday."

It's funny, because Russell never used to care much about lemons until going to Xenotime. It might also have something to do with certain memories attached to them. "Just never got sick of them," Russell shrugs with a small grin. Which is quite impressive considering how often they ate something that had even a little bit of lemon in it.

"You might not get sick of 'em," Ed says, "But someday you’re gonna run out of 'em. And then what will you do?" He reaches out and grabs Russell's wrist, tugging on it without being careful. "Come on, sit."

"I fully intend to never run out of lemons," Russell informs Ed, sinking into the closest chair. It would be far too tragic if that ever happened. Russell hands a fork over to Ed. "So, what do you have planned for your birthday?" he asks, because Russell wants to make sure that Ed will enjoy it.

Ed accepts the fork, and doesn't waste time scooping up a huge bite of cake. Thankfully, he manages to swallow before talking - mostly. "Not much," he says. "Already got the books an' the cake."

"But there must be something else you want to do," Russell continues. He takes a bite of cake though it's slightly smaller than the one that Ed took.

"Never really thought about it," Ed says. "I never really do much for my birthday. 'S just a day." Well, okay, it was more important than that - but there's never really been time so he's gotten used to a certain status quo about it all. "If you stick around, I'll be happy with it."

"There’s no if about it," Russell tells Ed, feeling like he's been over this already. But Ed seems like he needs reassurance, so Russell gives it. "I'm here now and I'll be here later." Russell pauses for a moment, thinking. "So, you've never had a party before or anything?"

"I have!" Ed says. "I just haven't really had one in a long time." He pauses. "Except for today." He grins now, looking happier with the idea of dealing with his birthday if he can keep Russ around. "Too bad I can't drag you back to my world for a while," he says. "That'd be way better than any party."

"Why can't you?" Russell asks, because as far as he knows, people could go to other worlds that aren't their own. "I'd like to see where you live."

Ed blinks, thinking this through and considers the fact Russ says he'd want to go. "Any reason not to go now?" he asks, with a grin.

"None that I know of," Russell says cheerfully, grinning back. Russell isn't busy at home for the moment, and he would never pass up the opportunity to be with Ed, anyway.

Ed jumps to his feet, then. "Carry my books," he orders Russ, "'Coz it's my birthday." He starts marching off to the door, without even waiting for a response.

Russell scrambles to gather up Ed's books without a second thought, because it’s Ed’s birthday. He would have put up more of a fight otherwise. He follows quickly after Ed, trying to hide his excitement.

"Don't forget the plant, either," Ed calls back. "But be ready to duck through quickly, I’m not sure where we’re going to turn up and I don't want to explain why a strange guy has randomly appeared in the middle of the factory, so we're gonna have to be stealthy."

Russell is sure he looks ridiculous right now, juggling a stack of books and now, a plant. He only hopes Ed doesn't want him to carry the cake too, because that might be a problem. "What kind of factory?" Russell manages to ask while making sure he doesn't trip over anything.

Ed blinks and realizes he left the cake behind, and before anyone can count to five he's dashed back, grabbed it, and dashed right to the door again. Why would he leave a cake behind?  
  
"Mostly in shambles," Ed replies. "We rent a part of it for running our rocket experiments." Russ might even get to see one of the big ones. "Don't get too distracted, you'll get a real tour later."

"What's the name of the place?" Russell is probably going to bother Ed with a lot more questions once they actually get there.

"Transylvania," Ed says. "It's in a country called Romania." He knows neither of these names will make any sense to Russ but they will after this trip, they will. It makes Ed kinda happy, too, to be able to share all of this with someone. He opens the door, and eyes Russ. "You ready? Not gonna stumble over your feet and fall?"

Russell gives Ed a look as if to say, 'oh please' before nodding. "Let's go," he replies with a grin, excited that Ed is willing to share something like this with him.

Ed nods and, with that, takes the steps necessary to go through the door. He waits for Russ, before closing the door. They're in his room now, in Transylvania. It's kinda cold, but not too bad - he can still feel the wind seeping through the old walls of the house, though. The floor creaks with the weight of the two boys standing on it.  
  
There's a box in one corner, with all his spare limbs carefully arranged into it; two beds are shoved in, Ed's over by the window. There are tools scattered all over the floor and a few pieces of clothing - but no one should ever expect Ed to have a clean room… or to be clean about anything, really.  
  
"Sorry," he says, anyway, a little sheepish. "I didn't think there'd be company when I left."

Russell follows Ed in, vaguely registering the creaking floor and the wind. "I don't mind," Russell says with a reassuring smile, absentmindedly placing the stack of books on a nearby table. He really doesn't mind the mess, it's just another side of Ed that Russell gets to see. "Makes the place feel lived in," he adds, which is something Russell appreciates.

Ed grins. "Alfons complains about it," he says. "I don't think he'd agree with you." Clearly, though, Ed has the same opinion as Russ. He likes a lived-in feeling and the room is way less empty.

Russell preferred a more organized mess, though if someone saw his lab and didn't know that, they might think otherwise. "Your... roommate?" Russell guesses, taking in the second bed. "Are there a lot of people who live here?"

"It's a school," Ed says. "So around ten guys in all." Despite this, though, the house is strangely quiet. "Most of them are off right now, trying to secure more funding. They'll be back later."

"Are they going to wonder where I came from?" This may be slightly worrying to Russell because he's not sure how to explain it without sounding insane.

"Nah," Ed says, waving a hand in a vague sort of way. "It could be tonight or it could be days - I dunno if we'll even have to deal with 'em. If we do, I'll just make something up." He sounds immensely unconcerned about it.

It's good that this problem obviously doesn't bother Ed, because Russell is less likely to be worried about it as well. "So, when does the tour begin?" Russell replies, unable to hide his excitement.

"Whenever the hell you want," Ed says, unable to repress a grin in return. This might all be regular day-to-day stuff for him, but somehow it seems more special when someone else is excited about all of it. Makes Ed appreciate it more.  
  
"What would you even want to see first? The town, the house, where we've got some of our rockets stored..." Ed trails off, and brightens more. "I've got my own auto-mobile." It's dinky and old, which is a special feat for this particular time period, but it's all his.

"We could start with the house and then see the town," Russell suggests. He pauses as the mention of the car. "Since when do you know how to drive?" Russell may be assuming a lot here, like the actual knowing how to drive part.

"Since anytime," Ed says breezily, crossing the room to get to the door. "Anyone knows how, it's not like it's rocket science or somethin'." He sounds a bit puzzled at the idea of someone not knowing how to drive and fully believes what he's saying.

Russell wants to protest that he's pretty sure Ed doesn't know how, but doesn't, because he's not sure if he wants a demonstration or not.  
  
"How difficult is rocket science, then?" Russell asks instead, for comparative reasons, of course.

"You could probably do it," Ed says, "but a lot of folks can't. It's sort of like trying to do physics when you just learned how to add 2 and 2."

"Maybe you could teach me some time," Russell says, off hand, following Ed to the door. The fact that it is something Ed likes makes it even more interesting.

"I don't think I can really teach it," Ed admits. "We're all still figuring it out. It's like we're setting the groundwork and we're all the first generation." Or first and a half generation, if he wants to be technical. Technically, he’s studying under someone who thought of it first and assisting him with work, too.

This statement makes Russell even more impressed, because how often does a person get to be involved in something that no one has ever done before? Maybe he can talk Ed into giving him a tour of the factory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lemon Balm plant](https://nurserylive.com/images/stories/virtuemart/product/lemon-balm.jpg).
> 
>  
> 
> [THE CAKE](http://www.marthastewart.com/632498/lemon-cake)
> 
>  
> 
> Shamballa plot coming up quick!


	25. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russell discuss things they haven't discussed before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the rating change we've been building up to ;)

Ed enters the bar. It's not Halloween in his world – more like the beginning of May – so he's really confused by all the festivities and decorations in the bar itself. He's a hell of a lot more confused when he looks down and finds he hasn't escaped the fate of being dressed up for Halloween against his will. Instead of his usual clothes, he suddenly finds himself in a familiar Amestris military uniform with a large eye-patch over one of his eyes.

Bar or Landlord or whatever power there may be has decided to dress him up as a certain Fuhrer Mustang. Ed gets a sour look on his face at this, and stalks off towards a booth. At least his costume has been made to fit to his size, rather than Roy's; that'd just be rubbing salt in the wound.

Russell has also joined in the festivities against his will. He hasn't spotted Ed yet, mostly because he's too busy scowling and fiddling with his tie. A tie that goes with a tailored suit, of all things. 

Ed pulls at his eye-patch trying to yank it off without catching it on his hair, but he gets distracted from this process when he spots Russ. In... a suit. With... a tie.

Ed's never really been one for suits when he's been forced to wear them and he's never really seen the point of them on anyone else, either. Why dress up to prove your point when you can just prove it with the words you're saying? But apparently, it's different when you're seeing someone you think is hot in a suit, because - because suddenly he  _very much_  sees the point of suits. Ed slouches down a little in the booth, his cheeks flushing, and tries to decide whether to call Russ over or to ignore him entirely. He _really_ doesn't want to get teased about any of this.

Russell absentmindedly wanders closer to Ed while tugging at his tie, trying to make it not choke him. He finally resorts to tugging on it with both hands and letting out low annoyed growl. He drops his hands in frustration and looks up, spotting blond hair. He catches Ed's eye and he pauses where he stands, face heating up when he notices what Ed is wearing.

Ed swallows audibly when Russ spots him, and suddenly he's forgotten any reason he might want to avoid Russ. Any stupid outfit that he himself is wearing isn't on his radar, and he'll take any amount of teasing to be able to keep looking at Russ. It's a fair price to pay.  
  
"Um," Ed says, his voice cracking a bit. "Nice outfit."

Russell doesn't say anything for a moment, partly out of embarrassment for getting caught wearing a suit and partly because he's trying to take in what Ed's wearing. He cracks a grin. "Dressing like someone you know?" Russell asks jokingly, completely forgetting that he was annoyed with his tie only a second ago.

Ed grumbles, covering his face with his hands and letting his back slide down even farther in the booth. "Not me," he squeaks. "Bar did it, and I'd think you'd know that, you jerk."  
  
He doesn't think Russ would choose to be in a suit willingly, either. Mostly because Russ never has any idea when he's hot which somehow always makes him hotter.

"Just wanted to see your reaction," Russell smirks, before going back to messing with his tie.  "Stupid knot is too tight," he mutters under his breath. It was like Bar _wanted_ him to die from strangulation.

"C'mere, stop messing with it," Ed makes a grabbing motion at him, one that's futile considering Russ isn't within arm's distance. "You're just gonna make it worse."  
  
Yeah, Ed has had to wear a suit sometimes, since he’s gotta look nice when he’s trying to get funding for rockets. It's part of why he hates them so much… except for at this exact moment.

Russell sighs in frustration, giving up on his tie and moving closer to Ed. "I don't see how anything can be worse than wearing a suit," he comments in a tone that's probably the closest thing to a whine he'll ever make. "Nice eye patch, by the way."

"Shaddup," Ed growls. "Wasn't my idea." He tries to reach for the tie and fails, due to poor lack of hand-eye coordination. "Can't see how the guy deals with this," he mutters under his breath, unceremoniously yanking the eyepatch off. His braid gets screwed up as a result, hair sticking out every which way, but he really doesn't care.  
  
"And maybe people  _like_  you in this suit, so you can deal." He unknots the tie and then does it back up again, ready to smack Russell’s hands away if he grabs for it again. "You’re gonna have to get used to wearing this kind of thing when you're older, anyway. Dealing with adult things." He smirks.

Russell thought Ed was going to undo his tie completely but, since it wasn't as tight anymore, Russell leaves it knotted and just loosens it a bit. It doesn't need to be spelled out for him who it is, exactly, that might like him in a suit. He undoes the top two buttons of his shirt instead.  
  
"Why, have you worn one recently, or something?" he says, perhaps trying to imply that Ed is, in fact, older.

"Nah," Ed says. "I almost had to the day you came over, but I escaped that 'cuz it was my birthday." That'd been part of his present, being left to his own devices instead of dealing with stupid crap. And what nice devices they had been! "Maybe I'll let you see me in it sometime, though, if you're good." If Russ just keeps standing there looking pretty, that'll probably be enough to persuade him, honestly.

Russell figures that since the tie has been taken care of, he can get rid of the jacket, at least. "You're going to have to tell me what you mean by good, first," Russell says, with a small grin. He tosses the jacket casually onto Ed’s lap and starts to unbutton his cuffs.

"Um," Ed says, distracted from being smug or trying to joke around. Stupid how the littlest things can do that. "I think you're gonna have to use your better judgement on that."

Russell rolls his sleeves up to his elbows one at a time. He's also not wearing suspenders for once; the tie must be a substitute. He reaches over to straighten Ed's collar. "You look good in uniform," he observes. Maybe Russell is trying to get a head start on the whole ‘being good’ thing. He still prefers Ed in black, though.

"Yeah, right," Ed says, snorting a little. "I probably look like a kid playing at being an adult." Or maybe that's just how he feels, sometimes. Most of the time. Even if he is technically an adult now.

"Don't say that," Russell protests, looking serious, "I don't think that about you at all."

"You're the one lookin' hot around here, anyway," Ed adds, and even winks. "Workin' that suit, huh?"  
  
"I'm just glad someone is able to appreciate what I'm wearing." Russell says wryly, giving Ed's bangs a brief brush with his fingers, lips quirking upwards. If Ed likes it, who is Russell to complain?

"Hell," Ed says, "how can I not?" He reaches for the tie again, tugging on it a little, trying to pull Russ closer. "I think you could wear a paper bag and make it hot."

Russell was leaning forward a little already but he lets himself be pulled in. "I think I'll just stick with the suit," he replies, voice lowered. He traces some of the seams along the front of Ed's jacket. "Aren't you uncomfortable in this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sure," Ed says. He sounds a little distracted, and this matches his mental state - he doesn't even notice that Russ is trying to hint around. He's too busy committing the picture Russ presents to memory. "I don't see how people can wear this thing all the time, it's dumb and itchy and hot."

Russell moves a bit closer, trying to make Ed look up at him. "Why don't you get rid of it, then?" He's doing interesting things to his voice right now too, things he hopes Ed will pay attention to.

...well. It's hard to miss  _that_. Even Ed's not going to stay clueless about most things for long - especially when Russ is going to such lengths to make himself noticed. He is curious as to how far Russ might go, so he's going to play dumb a little longer.  
  
"Maybe in a bit," he says, casually. "Might be too much trouble."

"Not for me," Russell comments, sliding his hands along the front flap of Ed's jacket. "I'll have to help you with this." He's not exactly sure how the whole thing is put together so he just undoes what buttons he can find. This is apparently all it takes as the jacket falls open. Russell gives Ed a lingering look. "Might just have to finish this upstairs."

"Yeah?" Ed shrugs off his jacket, abandoning it on the booth seat next to him. He's tempted to just give in, but he  _will_  manage to hold out, at least a little longer. "Aren't we talking just fine down here?"

"It's too noisy down here," Russell replies, distracted, because now Ed is standing in front of him in a very tight shirt. It might be noticeable how Russell's breathing changes, "this is supposed to be a private conversation." He stops himself from touching Ed. But just barely.

Ed notices. And while he's way too self-conscious to be in a tight t-shirt with that arm strap of his, he likes the apparent affect it's having on Russ. "A private conversation?" He asks, his voice low. He pulls on the tie, coaxing him closer until his lips are almost on Russell’s. His breath is warm as he speaks. "Show me."

Russell can play too, so he doesn't give in, as much as he wants to. He reaches up to take Ed's hand instead, leaning away slightly. "Can't show you down here," he replies in a similar tone, "might get into trouble." He doesn't specify what kind of trouble that might include.

"And what makes you think it won't get you into trouble up there?" Ed inquires, even though he's well aware that it really, really won't.

"I was actually hoping it would," Russell counters, tugging on Ed's hand, and not very gently either. Apparently, Russell has decided that too much talking is taking place so, if Ed is going to pretend to not get the hint, then Russell will just have to be a bit more... forceful. Which means he's obviously going to drag Ed upstairs.

Ed grins a little at that. "Jeeze," he says. "You're gonna injure me if I keep this up, aren't you? Knock me over and then drag me upstairs like a caveman." He concedes to follow. Finally.

"Only if you want me to," Russell jokes. He kind of likes it that Ed put up some resistance.

They climb the stairs, Russell pushing Ed against the outside of his door once they reach it, so Russell can find his key. "I would welcome you to my cave but you've already seen it."

"Doesn't hurt to welcome me again," Ed informs him. Now that they're actually up here, he doesn't need to play the indifferent game - he proceeds to make it pretty hard for Russell to find his key by pressing his lips against his throat, and sticking a hand in one of Russell’s pockets under the guise of helping him find his key.

Russell is pretty sure it's still in the same pocket, the one Ed doesn't have his hand in. The vague thought of stalling crosses his mind, just so Ed would have to check both pockets. But Russell is too impatient to do that, at this point, and sneaks the key out from where it was hiding instead. He slides an arm around Ed's waist, holding him tightly, so that Ed wouldn't lose his balance as Russell opens the door.

"Oops," Ed says, "I must have guessed wrong." He doesn't withdraw his hand from Russell’s pocket, though. "Just a few steps," he adds, "Until you can enlighten me as to what this private conversation is." Ed takes one backwards step, then two, crossing over the threshold. He's got a firm grip on Russell’s tie with his other hand, pulling him along.

Russell kicks the door closed with his foot before bringing his other arm to join the first, pulling them closer together. "It starts off with something like this..." Russell breathes into Ed's ear, leaning down and nibbling on his earlobe.

"Yeah?" Ed makes a contended sort of sound. "That's a nice opening line." He pulls at Russell’s shirt until it's untucked from his pants. "But I gotta warn you," he adds, "You're making me want to talk a lot. Discuss things we haven't discussed yet. Might just keep you up all night with it."  
  
What can he say, the suit was really hot. Maybe it should be Halloween more often. Ed reaches around Russ and relocks the door, before pulling at his tie again, trying to get them away from it. He's in a big hurry to press Russ up against something, and today it doesn't seem like the door will cut it.

"Good," Russell replies, letting Ed lead him further into the room, "because I don't mind talking long into the night at all." He stays as close to Ed as he can, reaching his hands under the black shirt to feel bare skin. Russell is _definitely_ going to remember to wear suits more often if this is the result, annoying tie be damned.

Ed smirks at that. "I've got a lot to say," he says. "So, I don't think you've got a choice." When he gets Russ near the bed, Ed presses his hands against his chest and pushes him down onto it.

Russell lets himself fall, finding that he enjoys Ed being in charge. _Very_ much. The bed seems to be lacking someone. Russell takes a moment to reach up and grab a fistful of Ed's shirt to pull him closer. "I'm listening," he says intently, with a hint of a cocky grin flickering across his face.

And well, banter is nice and all? But that grin just takes the entire cake, and it makes it impossible for Ed to put this off any longer. Sometimes it makes him mad, but right now, it really makes him want to _do things_.  
  
Instead of trying to think of a few more ways to be witty, he lets himself be pulled down to the bed, crouching over Russ. Ed slides one hand into Russell’s hair, tangling his fingers as he leans down and presses their lips together.

Russell would rather be doing this than thinking up more comebacks anyway, especially since he's able to slide his hands under Ed's shirt again. Only this time, he wants Ed's shirt off, because even though it clings and makes Ed look very good, it's kind of getting in the way. Russell looks very pleased with himself right now.

It's not hard to miss Russell’s intentions with his shirt, and Edward breaks the kiss, his lips close to Russell’s ear after a moment. "Too much clothing?" he asks breathlessly, just to make sure he's not misunderstanding - whenever they've gotten this far before, they go off on another tangent, and he wants to make sure.

"Yes," Russell breathes back, clutching at Ed's back, and trying to put everything he's feeling into that one word. The one word that means more than one thing, more than, yes, too much clothing, but also, yes, I'm sure and yes, I trust you and yes, keep going and yes to so many other things that he’s ever been unsure about. He follows this up with a hand on Ed's chin so Russell can look at him properly. "Yes," he repeats, firmly this time, confident.

"Okay," Ed says, and he grins in a way that almost no one gets to see. Free of all worries and able to look content, just for a little while. No matter what might be going on in his life right now, the bad is not allowed to touch this, and he finds himself grateful for it.  
  
And, as much as he likes the suit and the tie, they're barriers right now, and Ed starts to make quick work of them. The tie gets thrown to the side in three seconds flat and, for once, he doesn't fumble with shirt buttons. When he's got Russ down to his pants and undershirt, that's when he starts feeling impatient - way too impatient to wait any longer. There's one way to solve that, and they've got all night to explore so Ed reaches out and pops the button on Russell's pants, shoving his hand inside.

Russell is amazed at the efficiency Ed uses to get rid of his clothes. This is pretty much equal to the efficiency of Russell losing the ability to form a coherent thought the second Ed's hand disappears into his pants. Russell finds himself with one hand gripping Ed's shoulder, the other twisted up in Ed's hair. He might be tugging a little too much but he's making up for it with little noises of encouragement.

Ed is an efficient guy, isn't he? He's good at getting things done and he's good at getting exactly what he wants - and they're not exactly there yet. The noises of encouragement are nice, but maybe he wants to see if he can get a little more vocal participation, maybe he wants to see if he can get Russ to beg -   
  
\- because he still remembers that poker game, even if he'd been completely drunk, and he never did truly deal that payback he'd promised. He intentionally keeps the pace of his hand a little too slow, a little too teasing. He presses his free hand against Russell’s chest and runs it upwards, intentionally avoiding any sensitive spots - all the while keeping his gaze locked on Russell’s face.

Russell can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be but that might be difficult right now so it shouldn’t be too surprising if Ed actually manages to get Russell to break down and beg. Russell makes a small sound of frustration, stretching his head back and exposing his neck. "Too slow," he manages to choke out, returning Ed's look and adding, "you're... doing that... on purpose," though the effect of the accusation is a bit lost with all the pauses.

"Quick on the uptake," Ed says, making no effort to hide the fact that he's smug about this turn of events. "You've figured me out. But what are you gonna do about it?"  
  
He presses his mouth against Russell's exposed neck, nipping lightly and then humming, as if he's playing the innocent.

Russell makes a small noise of frustration, almost like a growl, and tugs on Ed's hair again, deliberately this time, to help make his point. "Smart ass," is Russell's only reply, distracted as he is. Though he does try a distraction of his own by sneaking a hand down Ed's back and underneath the waist of his pants. His hand disappears completely before he gives Ed a pinch.

"Mmhmm," Ed says, taking a moment to acknowledge the name he's been called before Russ pulls his own move. He squeaks and his hand automatically tightens a little in surprise, his cheeks slightly pink.  
  
"COPYCAT!" He accuses, thinking of the time he'd pulled a similar surprise on Russell.

Russell will do it again too, if needed, maybe even just to get Ed to make that squeak again. "You don't like it?" he asks, his turn to act innocent.  An act completely ruined when Russell splays his fingers and squeezes this time.

"I think you know the answer to that." The fact that Ed can't keep his hips from jerking a little might be a good hint. "Are we gonna spend this time trying to one-up each other, too?" This isn't necessarily a complaint; he'd just like to be aware of the status quo, that's all. Ed reaches up and catches Russell’s other wrist in his free hand, attempting to drag it away from his hair and pin it to the bed.

"Can't seem to stop myself," Russell admits without any trace of his usual smugness. He lets Ed pin his wrist, his other hand sliding to rest on Ed's hip. He's done with the playful pinching. For now.   
  
Russell pushes his body up against Ed. "No competing this time," he says quietly. There's time enough for that later.

"Okay," Ed agrees. "No competing."  
  
The repetition finalizes it and he kisses Russell once before sitting up to straddle his hips. Ed pulls at his own shirt, tossing it aside, before pushing at the waistband of Russell's pants. "Still too much clothing," he mumbles, and that blush isn't going away just yet.

Ed isn't the only one blushing but that doesn't stop Russell from joining his hands with Ed's to help him.  Only now he realizes that Ed is still sitting on top of him so Russell shifts slightly, not wanting to dislodge Ed but trying make it easier to remove his own pants.

... right. Ed hadn't thought that one through, and he forces himself to get up off the bed, at least for a moment. He doesn't want to, but they're just going to keep fumbling around if he doesn't, so he might as well make this easier. Somehow, this is all making him feel like a virgin again. Who the hell knew that was even possible?

Russell pushes his pants off, fumbling a little, and hoping he doesn't look as awkward as he feels. He is sure his face is bright red, but that's okay because who else can he be this awkward around, if not Ed? He is left wearing boxers and quickly reaches out to see if he can get Ed into a similar state of undress.

"Um... how do you get these things off?" There seems to be a slight problem with Ed's pants.

"... shit," Ed says, looking down at the part of the uniform that's left. "How the hell did this go..." He mutters some things under his breath, and feels around, trying to remember. He finally finds the way to unhook the pants and that stupid buttskirt, and throws them both across the room. "There," he proclaims, as if he's just managed a grand achievement.

Russell can't help but grin at how proud of himself Ed looks. He reaches out automatically, pulling Ed in closer for a kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing Ed by the hips to try and bring him closer. Russell lets his hands slide under the waistband of Ed's boxers. He pauses, looking up at Ed questioningly.

Ed replies with a wicked grin before reaching out and tugging Russell’s boxers off in one fell swoop. There's no better word for it - one minute they're on, and the next minute, Ed's got them in his hands. He can be pretty tricky when he wants to be. "Look at that," Ed says, appreciatively. "You're just hot stuff all over, huh?"

Russell's first reaction is to blink, of all things, because he's not quite sure what has happened at all. And then he realizes that there is suddenly a breeze where there isn't one normally. Obviously, the only thing left to do is to pull Ed's off as well.  
  
"Could say the same about you," he says, attempting to look pleased with himself... though it doesn't seem to work very well with a blush.

"Could or would?" Ed asks with a laugh, but he doesn't really wait for an answer. He leans forward to kiss Russell again, climbing onto the bed at the same time. It's an open-mouthed kiss, far from innocent, because when you're into the land of no-clothes, there's no room for that stuff anymore.

Russell follows Ed's lead, kissing, and arching into him, one hand tangling into hair again and the other exploring newly exposed skin. Russell can't seem to stop himself, but he manages to take a moment to flip them both over anyway, wanting to find a way to get closer, needing to. He hovers over Ed, breaking away from the kiss to lick and bite. Russell wants to leave marks. His mouth follows a path made by fingers, lower, until he's kissing along Ed's stomach.

"Thought we weren't gonna compete," Ed comments about the sudden dominance, but he's not complaining - far from it. He's appreciative and he's not at all shy about making noises to show it. He's not even complaining about the marks like he usually does.

"'s not competing," Russell manages to say between kisses. Russell looks up at Ed, a burning gaze looking out from underneath his hair. "I just want to touch you." It's more like being greedy, really.

Does it count as greedy if you're allowed every little bit of it?  
  
"Oh," Ed says, his face flushing deep under the intensity of Russell's look. He wishes he had something to say back to that, something witty or sexy or grand, but for some reason he's all out of words. At a base level, this is different than anything he's ever experienced before, something he wasn't prepared for at all.  
  
"You can," Ed says, as if he really needs to give permission at this point. As if he hasn't given it over and over and over already, with every touch and every kiss. "If I can too."

Russell’s whole body feels hot now and he makes his way back up to face Ed, feeling like he's not the only one this is new for. "Of course," he whispers. Russell lets his hand move lower as he leaves kisses across Ed's chest, before he finally does what he said he wanted to do.  
  
Ed may have made the first move by shoving his hand down Russell's pants but Russell feels more confident now, the pace of his hand slow at first, alternating his grip, wanting to see what will get Ed to make more noises. He leaves a kiss along Ed's jaw and then doesn’t let his eyes leave Ed's face.

"Fuck," Ed exhales, his voice somewhere between appreciative and frustrated. "Now you’re doin' that on purpose." He's not sure whether to complain or not. Sometimes he likes it slow, but sometimes he likes it fast. Not too fast, but just enough - just enough to overwhelm him, until it's all that he’s aware of. But maybe right now he’ll wait to see what Russell wants to do.

Russell nips Ed's jaw lightly before switching things up a little. He props himself up on one elbow to see Ed better before he quickens the pace of his hand. If he was hesitant a moment ago, he isn't anymore, as though Ed's voice has given him confidence, and he tries things on Ed that he likes to do to himself. Russell finds it extremely gratifying to see how his actions are affecting Ed. Not to mention how attractive.

"Do that again," Ed orders, about the nipping. He likes that - he likes that a lot. And, uh - okay. He's feeling kind of vulnerable about being on the bottom at the moment, so if he orders Russell around a bit, it might make him feel better. The true first times always make one feel vulnerable, maybe. Not that he'd ever admit it.  
  
When Russell switches it up, all he can do is groan and reach out, clutching at Russell’s shoulder - probably a bit too hard, to be honest. "Aah," he expresses. "Good."

There are times when Russell would have been annoyed at being bossed around by Ed but now, he couldn’t care less. Everything is so different from their past dealings, the previous roles they were used to were getting shaken up and Russell found that he liked this part of their realtionship better. Much better.  
  
Besides, if Ed likes biting then Russell is not going to deny him. He drags his tongue up to Ed's ear, nibbling, before drifting back down to suck on Ed's neck. All the while his hand is working furiously, tightening, twisting, thumb moving, in reaction to the pressure of Ed's fingers gripping his shoulder.  
  
The only thing Russell can think about is how Ed is letting him see him like this and Russell is in awe.

As far as Ed is concerned, Russell has earned it. All his hard work and dedication, and putting up with so much of Ed's shit. And oh, how Russ would be rewarded later - but right now, Ed's not in much of a position to do it. He's getting closer and closer to that peak, and his breathing is more and more irregular as it approaches.

"Russ," he pants. "If you keep - I'm gonna - " He has no idea if it's a bad thing or not but he feels like warning is needed.

Russell doesn’t stop, there’s no way he could stop now, not when Ed is so close to the edge. He's acting with single-minded determination now, even distracted from kissing and licking, his own breath hitching, becoming louder in anticipation. His focus is completely on Ed and how he can bring him to finish.

No more being polite, no more waiting, Ed is at the end of his rope. With a loud shout of Russell's name, the euphoric feeling overwhelms him, and the climax overtakes.  
  
"...shit," Ed pants, after, but he makes the curse word sound like a compliment.

Russell continues stroking Ed, slower and slower, before resting his hand on Ed's hip, pressing his body along Ed's, intensely aware of the shared body heat and closeness and Russell thinks that he'll never forget it. He leans over to take Ed's lips with his own. It's a languid kiss, intended to bring Ed down slowly but he can't help but pull back slightly, looking at Ed with a small content smile, watching him closely.

Ed grins at him fondly but with want still clouding his eyes. He reaches for Russell’s messy hand suddenly, and works on licking it clean, slowly but surely, with his tongue. Teasing, teasing, teasing. He can never not do that.

Russell's eyes go wide at the picture that Ed is making for him and he never thought that someone licking his fingers could burn him up like this. It overcomes him and he kisses Ed again, his tongue prying into Ed's mouth, to taste him. He can't seem to get enough of it.

Oh, Ed is not going to deny him that. He's finding it harder and harder to deny Russell anything, which seems a little fucking dangerous, but he just can't bring himself to care. If Russell wants a deep kiss, then he gets it, and Ed puts all his effort into making it the best one possible.

Russell can't stay still and he manages to shift himself on top of Ed without breaking their kiss. His hands trail down Ed's neck, fingers along a collarbone, touching wherever he can reach, before he stretches out to grip Ed's hands.

Ed's eyes sparkle mischievously at him, as he finally breaks the kiss. "You're sure enjoying it on top, aren't you? You think you wanna give something else a try?" He pulls his hands away from Russell’s, and without any further ado, he flips them over and sits himself on top of Russell’s hips. "How about that, plant-boy?"

Russell let's himself be turned, letting Ed take control and really, really enjoying it. "I like the view much better from here," he replies with an appreciative grin, taking in the sight above him.

"Heh," Ed says, entirely too smug. "I wonder how you'll like this view, then?"  
  
Ed does sometimes enjoy foreplay but right now he doesn't want to bother with it, and he's going to make Russell not care if he bothers with it, either. Suddenly he's in Russell’s view and then he isn't, sliding down the bed until he can take Russell’s cock into his mouth, completely without warning. He's very good with his tongue.

The sudden movement makes Russell gasp aloud and he throws his head back against the bed from the shock of it. He quickly loses himself in sensation, moans escaping him, for what feels like both forever and only a few moments. His hands clench and unclench in the sheets, his toes curl, his head rolls slightly from side to side.   
  
And there is one moment where he's able to catch a look at Ed and that picture is all that's needed to send him over the edge. He shouts incoherently, muscles tensing for a long moment, before he relaxes, feeling like he could melt into the mattress.

Ed crawls back up again, dropping himself on the mattress next to Russell, beaming like he's done the best damn thing in the world. "Liked that, huh?" he teases.

At the moment, it  _is_  the best thing in the world and it's left Russell speechless and motionless. "I think that might be obvious," he finally manages to say, not in his usual tone. The sappy grin on his face kind of adds to the effect.

"Yep," Ed says, liking that grin a whole lot. "Pretty damn obvious."

Russell reaches out for one of Ed's hands. He's gotten used to the simple contact and doesn't want to miss any of it. "Alright, I'll give that one to you," he concedes, feeling in an oddly generous mood right now and he's sure he knows why.   
  
Russell can’t be bothered about anything else right now, content to just  _be_  for as long as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka suits make Ed hot.
> 
> Shamballa plot starts next. There are about five chapters of it and I'm still trying to figure out which order all the vignettes go in.
> 
> Say hi on [tumblr](http://www.korepersephone.tumblr.com)!


	26. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell finds himself in a familiar church with a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamballa Plot, Part 1. Ed and Russell have been forced apart, both locked out of the bar and unsure whether they'll see each other again.

The cathedral still looks the same as the last time he had been there. Russell isn't surprised. The door to the tunnel was still intact, thankfully. He had made sure to close it behind Ed all that time ago; it was dangerous to leave something like that around for anyone to find.

He's still not sure why he decided to come today; maybe for the memories, maybe on a search for answers. Answers for all the strange earthquakes that had been taking place over the past month. Answers for why the Bar had locked him out again. Or maybe he was just looking for someplace quiet, to think. To wonder if Ed was stuck in the other world and wondering how quickly time will pass before they could see each other again.

But, if he came for the memories, he is about to get a slap in the face. Someone enters the church wearing a red coat, the hood pulled up so as to hide his face, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black pants. The figure comes to a halt suddenly and a pair of grey eyes stare at Russell from under golden bangs.

Russell wasn't expecting anyone else to show up, because who else would be interested in a deserted church? So, when the figure stops in front of him, Russell's breath catches and, for a moment, he thinks he's looking at someone else. Then he remembers that it's not possible for  _ him  _ to be here, that the figure resembles him but  _ isn't  _ him.

"Al?"

"Yes?" The answer is accompanied by a questioning look. Taking his hands out of his pockets, Al lowers his hood and locks eyes with Russell. "Tringham, Russell Tringham, right?" Al smiles and holds out his right hand in greeting.

Russell nods, shaking Al's hand and wondering vaguely if Al remembers him from their visit to the hospital. "What brings you here?" he asks curiously.

"Research, mainly." Al's face flushes slightly as he scrambles to come up with an excuse for why he's at this specific church.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Because Russell could tell him quite a few things about this place, considering.

"I'm not really sure why I'm here, myself.” Al gets that far away look as he thinks. Shaking his head, he decides to go with the truth. "I'm looking for the door to the lost city..." He trails off but It may seem as if he wants to say more.

It almost feels like the past is going to keep repeating itself, only this time Al will be the one to disappear through the door. Russell takes a deep breath, deciding. "I think I can help you with that," he says, nodding.

"Thank you." Al seems surprised by this and frowns. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but… why do you want to help me?"

It's a fair question and there's no reason for Russell  _ not _ to trust Al with the information. Especially if he’s looking for Ed.

"I helped your brother find the city the first time," Russell explains. "There's no reason not to help you as well." And if it helps bring Ed back then, all the better.

The spark of a memory shines through before the side effects from the gate take over and wipe it from his mind. Al levels a questioning stare at Russell. "You helped Ed, I thought you guys hated each other?"

Russell coughs lightly, glancing away from Al. "No, not anymore," he says, not sure how much more he should say. There is a small smile on his face that implies there is more to that story, though. Funny how things can change like that.

Al tilts his head, accepting that explanation easily enough and looks around the room. "So, where's this door?"

Russell nods down the middle aisle toward the far end of the church. "Just down there," he says, standing, "I can open it for you, if you want."

"I think I can manage it on my own."

Looking far too much like his brother, Al marches towards the altar with purpose behind each step. "Hey, Russell," he says, pausing. The hesitance in his voice reveals much more than he desires.

"In case something happens down there… could you check in on the Rockbell's for me and tell them... that I'm sorry, but I have to find him."

"Yes, of course," Russell replies, automatically, smiling in return. "Al..." he pauses a moment, looking as though he's choosing his words carefully. "Just… be careful, okay?" he says finally. He's not sure if it's the older brother instinct that makes him say it or the fact that Al is important to someone he cares about. It's probably a bit of both, really.

Al gives Russell a smile in thanks. Turning to the altar, a sharp clap breaks the silence, followed by a flash of blue light. When the light fades, there's a gaping hole leading to a set of stairs that descend into a dark, dank space.

Russell stands off to the side, forlorn and feeling like the only witness to yet another departure.

Al turns and gives him a familiar grin, raising an arm in salute to Russell. Turning towards the stairs, he pulls a pair of white gloves out of his back pocket and slips them on, before walking down the steps and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al is played by Alex and can be found [here](http://armoralchemy.livejournal.com/).


	27. Edward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Determination. Loyalty. Shock. Guilt. Sacrifice. Hopelessness. Faith. Enlightenment. 
> 
> Edward fights to save two worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamballa Plot, part 2. This chapter contains three interrelated vignettes originally posted separately.

Edward Elric hasn't been in the bar for awhile. To be more accurate, he hasn't found the door to the bar for five whole months, and a lot has changed in that time. He's been transposed from Romania back to Germany, from a house full of rocket boys to a small apartment with a guy who looks like his brother. Things have been a lot quieter lately, with a lot more time to reflect on the things he's lost - and he doesn't like it at all. Before, at least, he could make himself busy. But now he and Alfons are growing farther apart, and Ed's slowly been detached from the rocket project. He's had more and more time for his thoughts, and they're not a nice place to be.

This changes, a little, when a strange woman showed up. While she intentionally stirred up memories that he was trying to repress, it means that someone finally believes him. She claims that she has seen visions of his past, she claims that she knows everything that he's gone through - just by touching his skin. Neither logic nor science can touch Noa's abilities, but for once, Ed finds that he doesn't mind that. For once, he finds that he can ignore the facts and just believe in something, because he's been needing something to hold onto.

_ i. roma _

She tells him that she can see his home, and he finds that he can do nothing but believe her.

Edward Elric has spent far too many years of his life in suspicion of this, that much is true. He trusts far and few between and, in most cases, it’s taken years to build his trust. For him to automatically believe in something someone has told him – let alone something that defies logic and science to such an extent – it’s unthinkable. But, despite this, he’s drawn to it anyway. Drawn to her. For once, he finds that he can allow himself to rely on the unknown, to find it comforting. For once, he’s able to surrender himself.

‘She may be able to fool you and Alfons,’ Hughes’ double had told him, the contempt obvious in his voice, ‘But they fool men and steal their wallets. They are, after all, drifters.’

‘I’m a drifter, too,’ Edward had informed him, and it was exactly right. What little home he clung to had been lost to him years ago, and it was never going to come back. The Bar had served as a substitute sometimes, armour to hide a gaping wound. But it hadn’t been enough, just like Alfons would never be enough.

Maybe that was the point of this, in the end. Maybe he hoped that two drifters could find a home together. He even lets himself believe it for a few hours, to take solace in a stupid little hope. But those ‘weird feelings’ that he’d told Roy he had? Well, they never go away. They only grow worse throughout the day, though he assumes it’s because of the prejudice he has to face by her side.

When he sees the face of Pride, his blood runs cold, and he knows all his assumptions and hopes were wrong.

And he knows that there can never truly be any hope for him.

_ ii. homunculus _

It had happened so innocently, of course, because that was the way the worst always started. Sneaking up on you out of nowhere, leaving you to feel like you’d been mugged in a back alley and left to die with your blood all over the pavement. He’d been wrapped up in Noa, wrapped up in the conversation they were having, when a car had passed by out of the corner of his eye. He’d almost,  _ almost  _ been able to ignore it - but his instincts were bred too strongly, and it’d felt like a rock had sunk in his gut.

It was easy enough to pursue the car, and if Edward had been thinking clearly enough, he’d have known that this was a sign that it may not actually be the homunculus himself. After all, hadn’t Pride been too cunning for that? Too smart, too cunning, too much of a goddamn bastard to fall for anything as silly as being stalked. But the stone sinks lower, his anxiety grows higher, and all he can do is plot and plan how to stop this creature in its tracks.

In the end, he ends up going a simple way. Pushing a big old rock into the path of the car, and waiting for it to have to stop. Taking out the driver is far too easy, and when Ed approaches the car –

\- when Ed approaches the car, it’s not the Fuhrer Bradley. It’s a relief, in more ways than one. It’s nice to know that Roy hadn’t betrayed that trust, that he hadn’t let Ed go without knowing he’d run into the fucking bastard. And it’s damn good to know that he won’t have to try to destroy the thing without alchemy. As much as Edward likes tearing things apart with his bear hands, he doubts he’d manage it in this case.

The man isn’t angry over the misunderstanding. He says he’s used to it, you see – used to misunderstanding because he’s jewish, used to mistreatment because of the same. It’s all enough to make Edward even angrier at this country he’s been forced to adopt as his own. Angry enough to want to spit, and angry enough to have to lend his own services, just to make up for the inconveniences he’s caused.

Too bad. Otherwise he might have managed to walk away, and then he’d have escaped this whole damn thing.

‘Dragon hunting’, the man who would be Fuhrer calls it, and Edward has to resist rolling his eyes. It’s another leap of logic, and he’s not inclined to believe in this one, perhaps because it doesn’t involve a pretty girl. In a world of machines and science, who believes in such a thing? Who would even bother to try to look for one?

Present company, apparently, and now Edward is expected to as well. He can only hope that he doesn’t have to wield a goddamn sword.

_ iii. dragon _

No, the weapon of choice is far more modern, and Ed really rolls his eyes this time. He’s handed a gun and an electric torch, sent off on his way into an abandoned and crumbling castle. He thinks nothing of this little excursion. It’s a distraction, that’s all it is, and probably a story to tell later. Alfons will laugh at him, and maybe Noa will even manage a smile. Both actions will be gifts that will keep him warm for a few days longer.

But even that’s too much to hope for, isn’t it? Because this isn’t just a little distraction. His earlier fear about homunculus had been all instinct, and he’d given into it because Mustang had always taught him that instinct was the one illogical thing to follow. He’d only been tricked into thinking that it was off, and it’s in the darkest depths of a castle tower that he meets an enemy he’d hoped to have lost.

‘Edward Elric,’ the great serpent hisses, and with only the utterance of his name, it all becomes a blur. Edward has to fight for his life against this great being, this homunculus, this horrible sin, this creation of his father – his half brother, Envy. He manages to fend him off, but before even one question can be asked, others come into the mix. Men and great machines interfere, separating the two before any discussion can be made. A man that his father knew is there, too – but before Edward can find out anything about Hohenheim’s disappearance, they shoot some sleeping gas into his face.

It’s all over, before it’s even begun, or so it would seem. There’s something to live for, now, and hope is in the air. But all he’s left with is a million questions and no answers, wondering if it would have been better if he’d just been left the hell alone.

It certainly would have been easier.

_ iv. bargain _

When Edward sleeps that night, he dreams of things he shouldn’t. He dreams of colours, pink and purple and red, all swirling together in a way that manages to both welcome and deny. He dreams of a woman chanting, of men in armour, and glimpses of a brighter world. An earthquake, a boy who manages to split his very own soul, and a lonely man at a snowy outpost. Black creatures with wicked smiles oversee the events that have started to occur, taunting him with their power and knowledge.

Edward’s an anomaly, one that remembers all of the Truth when he sleeps – but it’s too much for his waking mind to handle. He will only remember little pieces when he wakes, chalking it up to a drug-induced hallucination. When he crossed the gate, so long ago, he bargained away his ability to take control of his life - all for the sake of his brother. And, as he has for the past two years, he will manage to lose himself to his own self-pity once more, only drawn into slight action by a few bits of curiosity and a spare hope that he might be able to find his father.

The events of yesterday haven’t taught him their lesson. Not yet. Because everything has only just begun.

_ v. thule _

When Edward wakes that morning, he has forgotten most of his dreams. He has not, however, forgotten the events of the prior evening. With this much trouble brewing on the horizon, it is clear what he must do - try yet again to find his father.

At least this time, he has some sort of lead. Haushofer had been at the castle the prior night, and had been involved in catching Envy in his dragon form. The next logical step is, then, to track this man down and grill him on any information he might know.

He works at the university; this much Edward is aware of. But when he shows up there that morning, the one lead he has quickly runs into a dead end. 'Professor Haushofer's classes have been suspended,' the students inform him. 'He's busy at home with the Thule society.'

Thule? This was something that had an edge of familiarity to it, but not enough for Ed to match any meaning to the word. But it's not as if it's worth his time, is it? Apparently all the society amounts to is yet another league of crackpots, looking to use their 'gods' to, as they say, save Germany from itself. Edward doesn't give one crap about that, but he stores the knowledge in the edge of his mind anyway, annoyed that he has to spare even a little brain power to it.

At least, once again, the next step is clear. If Haushofer is at his home, then Edward is going to go to that home. It's heavily patrolled by guards, but this is no matter to the great Fullmetal Alchemist, however out of practice he may be. He sneaks past them quickly, and pulls himself in through a broken window - messy, messy. This society can't amount to all that much if it's this incredibly easy to get in.

His face is cut from the glass, but he pays the minor wound no mind. He's too busy wondering how a university Professor can afford a home such as this, and those weird feelings are getting far worse than ever. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's getting himself in over his head - and for the first time in months, there are the small stirrings of excitement in his belly.

_ vi. incomplete _

It's clear from the inside of the building that it is truly no ordinary villa. The first oddity to stick out to him is the area with all the rocketry - puzzle pieces are rotating in his head, threatening to line up, and two have just clicked together. Whatever this is, they have something to do with Alfons' sponsors. Perhaps they  _ are  _ his sponsors - but what need would a society of crackpots have for rockets?

He wanders the hallways unstopped, but he doesn't let his guard down for even a moment. Soon enough, he comes across a large, circular room, one that reminds him a little too much of the underground city. There's chalk all over the ground, markings that he doesn't immediately recognize. 'A magic circle,' he can't help but scoff. 'They probably sacrifice virgins to bring forth the Devil. Give me a break!'

It had been a moment of stupidity, but realization quickly strides into the room and clonks him over the head. No, he realizes. This isn't magic - it's an alchemic circle. His blood runs cold and his heart sinks. What the hell is one of those doing in this world? Alchemy doesn't work. He knows it doesn't work, from the first frantic days he spent in this hellhole. Hours and hours spent on the ground with only one arm available to him, drawing circles over and over in the dirt, ignoring both a lack of results and all the fucking strange looks it earned from those around him. He'd been hysterical enough in those days to try it, but he'd had prior knowledge - these people shouldn't have any at all. Alchemy was a dead thing here, passed over for machines and science, and all the useful knowledge long since lost to the wind.

This smells of his father's involvement, and he knows he's getting closer to his goal. It's knowledge he can use, but suddenly he's distracted - distracted by the fact the ring isn't complete, distracted by the fact that there is a piece of chalk just sitting right there…

He knows how to complete it. He knows what's missing. Before he can even think through what he's doing, he's on his knees, rendering the necessary lines and arcs to make this thing complete.

But it's not going to work, is it? It doesn't matter what it's meant to do, nor does it matter why it's here. It's not going to function. He brushes his hand over his cheek absently, ignoring the sting of his wound, not even noticing the blood that spreads across his gloves. He sinks down, his own actions far more wounding than anyone could ever achieve against him, and his hands hit the ring. The blood serves to connect whatever link was missing, and - 

_ vii. niisan _

\- and all of a sudden, a light shines.

'You're still just a dumb little kid, aren't you?' The voice is unmistakable - Envy is here, and has been watching his every move. Fuck, fuck, Ed is so stupid, fuck. The dragon is shining with symbols that Edward doesn't recognize, and something is happening. The air is heavy with it, it's an unmistakable power, and the array has been activated. There's purple and red and pink all at once, and countless suits of armour drop from the sky. He hears shouting, but he can't make out most of it, and there are men suddenly, and they're asking him something, but he can't -

'Have you come back from Shamballa?'

The question is directed at him, and Edward has only a moment to wonder before he's being punched in the goddamn face. The hell with that, he's not going to help them with anything, even if he had been inclined to do so before. They're ordering him to talk, they're ordering him to explain what he's done, but he ignores them all, with a heavy-set glare.

The men in the armour are all dead, apparently crushed by some unknown force. It's something they think he's done. Of course they do. Wouldn't he think the same, in their situation? He's about to get punched again, or physically abused in some other way, when some woman butts her ugly face in.

Her name seems to be Eckhart, and she's the leader of this operation, she's got to be. Only leaders of stupid operations ramble that goddamn much, and Ed doesn't really care to listen to what she's saying. Something about a place called Shamballa, a mystical place that's all pure and crap and will provide them with some power to win some Great War. It's more of this 'let's save Germany' shit, and he's wondering when she escaped from the loony bin.

But she says she knows his father, and he's determined to grill the hell out of her to find him. The more that happens, the more he thinks that Hohenheim is the only one that will be able to tell him what the hell is going on, and it's only then that Edward would be able to correct this shit. He has no idea why it's falling to him, when all he wanted to do was give up on life, but them's the facts of life. But before he gets a chance to speak properly, before he gets a chance to ask, there's a gun to his head.

He goddamn well hates guns.

Ed manages to protect himself with his prosthetic hand. Two of the fingers are shot off, but it's better than his brains all over the floor. His body is moving as it used to, letting him flee in the best ways he knows how. He dives into the suits of armour, and it's there that he spots a familiar face, and despite all logic or reasoning —

Alphonse Elric is there with him.

His brother is there in this fucking world with him, but in that godforsaken suit of armour. Edward would like more time to process this, but despite a moment's reprieve (and a crack or two about his height), the bad guys adjust easier than him. They start shooting again, and off the brothers go, getting the hell out of there.

Somehow, they manage to get away. Probably because they're together.

No matter how dire a situation is, an Elric can always manage it with the help of his brother.

* * *

The worst mistake one can ever make with their life, it seems, is to take things for granted.

_ \- You might find this hard to believe, but I met Al. My little brother. I might be able... to go home. - _

Edward had never really thought that he had enough in his life to take for granted. He'd lost most that was important to him at the age of eleven, and he's spent the ensuing seven years in a slow downward spiral. He's fought tooth and nail to hang onto the littlest things that he's got left and, until he was sixteen, he'd managed to keep a touch-hold on them.

_ \- Shamballa. A perfect, legendary eastern land. It's said that whoever controls it... will rule the world. - _

It was only when he sacrificed himself for his brother that he lost everything he had. And it was then that he clearly lost the ability to see when he was taking things for granted, as it has now been cruelly revealed to him that he has been doing exactly that.

_ \- You recognize this bomb. It's of your world. It's used as a promise... that the Nazi uprising will succeed. They plan to open the gate, to bring forth more power from your world. Let them. It doesn't concern you anymore. - _

There have been two constants in his life since he passed through the gate, and not even the bar nor its occupants has made it onto that list. One is his father - though Edward spent most of his life hating the man, though Edward hasn't seen him in the flesh for a very long time, Hohenheim had not missed any opportunity to make up for lost time in the past two years. Even when his actual physical presence has not been known, he always finds some way to make sure that Edward is taken care of. It's the only way, for example, to explain the times when the rent on the flat has suddenly moved from the red into being paid up for two months. There are many similar occurrences such as this and, when they happen, Edward knows who is responsible.

_ \- You are pretending to live a dream, when you are really afraid... that reality will invade it! - _

The other full constant in his life is Alfons Heiderich. He had faulted Hohenheim for seeking out Edward's own double, in the very beginning. He had accused him of being needlessly and stupidly nostalgic. But when Ed met the boy at the rocket school, he was unable to stop himself from repeating his father's 'mistake' - and he's clung to his brother's double ever since.

_ \- Don't build that rocket. They're planning a war... using the world that I came from. Alfons! - _

If he's upset, then Alfons is there for him, waiting with comforting words. If he's inspired, then Alfons has a brain to match his, and they manage to inspire each others ideas to new heights. And, if he's feeling silly, well, then Alfons is willing to play around with him like they're five years old. And he's always, always willing to overlook it if Edward slips up and accidentally calls him 'brother'.

_ \- This is my world. I want to leave some proof that I lived. You have no say in the matter! - _

Ed has no illusions about this. He realizes that part of it is likely because he has an 'odd likeness' to Alfons' late brother as well - although Alfons never misses an opportunity to assure him of how mild mannered and logical and completely unlike Ed that boy had been.

_ \- The gate won't open, anyway. - _

It's okay. It makes Ed smile. It's just a part of what they have.

_ \- The gate won't open. - _

But Alfons has been changing lately, hasn't he? Edward's been so wrapped up in his own problems that he hasn't known what to do about it, but he's certainly been aware of it. He's been taking Alfons for granted, assuming he'll always be there, assuming he'll always be helpful, assuming he'll always be the same, nice guy that he's always been.

_ \- What are you planning? Go home, Edward. Go home. - _

He let Alfons down. He let him down completely, and this fact is clear to him now. Edward was so ignorant of those puzzle pieces arranging themselves around him, that now the people in Edward's life are forcing themselves to sacrifice for him, all just to see his happiness. Despite any loss of their own.

_ \- Open the gate to Shamballa, and bring their armed forces to us. - _

Edward had thought Alfons had changed. In the end, Alfons hadn't changed at all. It takes him far too long to realize this. It takes Noa's betrayal - his memories, his feelings, his thoughts, they were all his, and she stole them for herself, she took them - to make him realize this.

He can't stay away. He needs to involve himself.

_ \- The gate won't open without you. - _

Because those he cares about are in danger, on both sides of the gate.

_ \- All I want is a world of my own, that belongs to me! One where nobody will betray me, or be afraid of me! - _

He can't say that it doesn't concern him.

_ \- His knowledge alone will not open the door? - _

He can't say...

_ \- Father? what the hell are you doing? - _

...that it's not his world any longer.

* * *

Determination is deciding to do something about his circumstances and arriving at the scene of the crime, a gun in hand, willing enough to fight for both of his worlds --

Loyalty is seeing Alfons there, and knowing he needs to pull him out. Make him leave, somehow, make him get to safety, make him figure out that he doesn't need to do all of this --

Shock is finally finding his father, only to see him in the mouth of the dragon, only to hear Hohenheim state that he has to make up for all of his sins, only to experience the man forcing Envy's jaws around him, only to --

Guilt is his father sacrificing himself for Edward's sake, sacrificing himself to open the gate and, as the blood spills down, all Edward can think is that once again, this is all his fault --

Sacrifice is poor Alfons Heiderich, using the rocket that he built to propel Edward to the other side of the gate, refusing to let him stay, refusing to go with him, and staying behind to make sure it works --

Hopelessness is seeing Noa, seeing her reach for him and knowing that Ed cannot and will not do anything to save her, that he will leave her behind and be glad for it, that he does not have any use for her any longer --

Faith is arriving home and trusting in Winry to give him limbs that work, so he can track down his wayward brother, so that together, the Elrics can fix this mess --

Enlightenment is knowing that he cannot separate himself from the situation, and that he is not going to bail, and that no matter what happens, he will have done the fucking best he can to stop this useless war --

And failure, failure is not an option.

It doesn't even enter into the equation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a huge fan of Mandy's Ed that I did very little to this chapter except fix minor typos.


	28. Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things that Ed has lost have a way of coming back to him, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamballa Plot, part 3.

At the edge of consciousness there is a sensation that is very rarely talked of. It is what occurs when death is imminent, the mind lets go and accepts fate while the body rigidly denies what is happening. 

It is in these last few seconds that Al looks into his brother’s eyes and smiles, the last thing he sees is the person he admires most.

And then there is nothing.

Silence collapses in around them as visibility drops into nothing but blankness. Small, at first, in the distance, a gray object appears. Growing rapidly, it moves towards the brothers as if with its own will.

The gate appears before the brothers just as it had on previous occasions. Tall and imposing, the symbols carved into its gray stone surface reminiscent of everything and nothing all at once.

One moment - they had been facing imminent and certain death and Ed had been resigned to it. Resigned and accepting, looking ahead towards the future, even if all it contained was oblivion. He doesn't believe in God, you see, so he doesn't believe in a life after death, except for those who may find themselves at a place at the end of the universe.

It was comforting in a way, really, even if he was angry that Al insisted on going with him. Ed hadn't regretted the loss of all the possible things he could have done - all he can think is finally, it's over. It's this thought that he took solace in, and when he lost sight of everything, lost sight of his brother, it was the last thing he's aware of.

But it doesn't last, of course, does it? It never does. Because now they're standing in front of the Gate, a place that Ed has stood in front of many times before. The sight makes Ed drop to his knees, his mouth open, an almost desperate sound coming out. "Not again," he says, tiredly. "Not again -- "

\-- but if he's here, then Al must be as well, right? The realization strikes him hard, he can't look up quickly enough. His brother is here with him, and the relief is enough to abate his fear and disappointment, to see that his brother has survived in some shape or form. There's no way to know what will happen to them next, but at least he's with Al.

He tries to focus his mind on something to say to his brother, he tries to calm it enough to formulate another sentence, but all he can find is turmoil. Nothing comes out.

"Brother." The single word is spoken loudly, yet not heard. It's felt in the core of his being. "Brother, why are we here?"

The question is not in regards to their location but their position in time space itself. The unspoken statement is in Al's eyes: we shouldn't be here.

Speaking without speaking, hearing without hearing. It's all a part of the essence of this place, the way energy passes, the way time moves... it's a fluid place, and it represents many things but, above all, it represents a possible decision.

If there's ever been anything close to God, this is it, the place that governs so closely over the lives of alchemists. Ed doesn't express this sentiment, but he doesn't repress it either, so his feelings on it should be all too obvious to Al. Don't bother to think about it, Ed's expression says. Just accept it.

"It's offering itself to us."

Al's face scrunches up, forming a sour expression that Ed knows all too well. "But what do we have left to give, brother? We've lost our homes, our lives, even each other."

The look on Al's face changes as he speaks; his eyes have a slight panic in them as he physically checks himself, as if to make sure everything is still  there.

"And now ourselves," Ed says. "Just like I did when I sacrificed myself for --" -- for you, expresses the unspoken part of the statement, the part that Ed feels he needs to put no words to. "My existing after that wasn't equivalent exchange."

Maybe it's breaking the most basic law again. Maybe it's offering them another chance, in exchange for what they've done.

Al looks to his brother for direction. In typical little brother fashion, he stands to Ed's right and just behind, supportive of whatever decision Ed makes… so long as he doesn't do something stupid like try to sacrifice himself to save Al. If he does, Al may have to smack him up side the head.

There's no place to sacrifice, here. They've already made the sacrifice, and they performed that together. Edward looks up at the gate, silent for - for a moment, for minutes, for hours, it could be any of these, the passage of time isn't clear here, all that's clear is that there's something to assess, but his mind is a blank.

Hesitantly, he raises his hand, and lays it on the stone surface. He closes his eyes, his head tilted slightly downwards.

"It wants us," he says, finally, and his tone is obviously affected by the power of the pull. "It's trying to tempt me, it wants..."

With a great strength of will, he pulls his hand away. His eyes are still closed, and he takes a step back, until he's side to side with his brother. "There's somewhere we're supposed to go."

For Al, that is enough, to have a purpose, to be with his brother, to exist. He steps forward, toward the gate, his eyes never leaving its surface. "Brother, I want to go."

It's declaration of intent not permission. With a determined look, Al steps forward.

Ed opens his eyes now, glancing up at his brother's back, his eyes wavering and his voice hesitant. "Al..." he starts, and trails off.

_ I'm not sure I could continue to have a purpose. _

Al looks back to to his brother. Holding his left hand out, his white glove scorched and tattered, Al reaches out for his brother with more than just words. His eyes are locked on Ed's. "Brother… are you coming?" His next sentence is barely a whisper. "Come with me, I can't do this without you."

Ed stares at his offered hand, unable to repress the fear in his eyes. Fear at continuing on, but also fear at choosing not to, and not only abandoning Al, but abandoning himself... they each spent an eternity alone already, and it shouldn't happen again.

But.

"You can do anything you want to," he expresses, before he can stop himself. "You always were the better of us." In every way but alchemy, and even there, Al found ways to ever so quickly catch up. "You shouldn't get... held back."

_ Not by the likes of me. _

Al senses his brothers despair and turns to face him squarely. "Brother, you never held me back, if anything, I kept moving forward because of you."

The thought of finding Ed always kept Al going. And the thought of what he'd want to show Ed, what he had learned, kept him transmuting.

"Because of me," Ed repeats. "I was the same, I -- I always lived for the moment I'd see you again."

And then, the past few years, other reasons. But always having to do with Al. Knowing that he would have to stick around to make sure that this stupid world wouldn't destroy his brother, like it'd destroyed so many others. To make sure his brother stayed safe, and as healthy and happy as possible. He'd done a good job of that, if they're at the gate now, eh?

Ed looks up at it for a moment and, despite his inner turmoil, determination crosses into his eyes. "So you want to go forward, eh? To... wherever it's calling us?"

Maybe he can live for Al's sake again. Maybe that would be enough.

Al nods his head and turns back to face the gate. Stepping forward, this time without the fear that his brother won't be there, Al steps forward. "We are ready. Send us where we are needed."

Spreading his arms, Al closes his eyes tight and waits.

Ed doesn't close his eyes - he doesn't trust the gate enough to do this, and he never will. So when it opens, and the legion reaches out to grab them, he's watching every movement - no matter how frightening it may be. Not that he'd ever admit to fear.

It's a horribly unpleasant sensation, being thrown through the gate and propelled to the other side. It's all too fast and before he's even got time to adjust, Ed's face has suddenly hit the dirt and he's all too aware of things again. There's life around them, it's not a blank slate, and --

"Al?" he asks, his face muffled by the ground below him. "Where are we?"

Al opens his eyes, not because he is no longer afraid, but because when you hit the ground… it hurts. Looking around, Al's eyes sparkle with memory.

"Brother." Al points towards a light coming from a window in a house on top of a hill. "We're home."

With his eyes beginning to water, Al pulls himself up and begins to scramble up the hill side towards the house.

Ed opens his own eyes and lifts his head. "We're what -- ?"

The sight that meets his eyes confirms it, and his eyes widen to take in all of it. He hasn't seen this world in several years and he didn't think he'd ever see it again. If he'd known this was what he'd receive in exchange for dying, he wouldn't have hesitated back at the gate, he wouldn't have --

Ed scrambles to his feet, and nearly falls right back over, because something is wrong with his weight distribution. It's all strange and lighter, and it feels like he's trying to use nerves in ways they haven't been used in years. Because no matter how much automail imitates the real thing, it isn't the real thing, and when he glances down --

"Al," he says, not sure whether to sound alarmed or pleased. "ALPHONSE."

This can't be real, it  _ can’t _ . He can't have home and his body, all whole again. That much wouldn't be allowed.

Al turns at his brothers call. Looking at Ed he can't help but smile, the optimist in him shines through as he flies back down the hill wrapping his brother in a tight hug.

"Al," Ed says, again, and hugs him back tightly. He can feel it with both of his arms, both of his hands, and it's a strange and wondrous gift. "How is any of this possible?"

He's acting like the little brother now, he has been this whole time, looking up to Al for direction - but that's okay for a little while, isn't it? Edward's completely, truly, out of his element.

"I don't know?" Al’s answer is laced with a happiness and a tone that says _ I don't care how _ . "Let's go home, Brother."

All of a sudden, Al's eyes light up before he turns and runs into the house. All Al offers by way of explanation is a single name spoken softly and with much admiration.

"Winry!"

"Oh," Ed says, and his eyes narrow. "Now I know this is real, if this was some perfect place then we wouldn't be about to run into some insane loony who carries around a wrench like she owns everyone and their damn ass, too..."

He's muttering all of this under his breath as he climbs up the hill and follows Al. But the fact he doesn't stop his brother from running inside, and the hint of a grin on his face, betrays his true feelings, despite all of what he's saying.

The entryway is empty, but that's to be expected, really. Who thinks they're gonna have guests at this time of night? "You should go investigate around," he says, elbowing Al in the side. "If she's sleeping, she'll be less likely to kill you if you find her first."

Al throws his brother a slightly annoyed, you're ruining the moment look, before moving through the house listening for the telltale clink of wrench and machine. 

"You and I have been gone for years Brother, to just show up like this, I think she might kill either of us."

"I'm older than you," Ed says. "If she tries to kill you, then I'll make better backup."

Except that Al was bigger and stronger than him, so age didn't really matter in this case, did it? Neither strength, size, or age mattered against the power of Winry's wrench and for either boy to try to assure themselves of this fact was a mistake.

Winry is fast approaching, having heard intruders enter her house, but with no idea as to their identities. She's got her wrench in one hand, and her toolbelt slung around her waist, despite the fact she's in her nightgown - after all, you never know when you may need a backup weapon. In her sleepy and confused mind, all she can recognize is that there are intruders, and she's not paying attention enough to the voices to try to identify them for what they are.

She spots a head of blond hair. She considers her aim, and she swings with all of her power. There's no damn way that anyone is going to get away with barging into her house at this time of night! Especially if they intended to steal or spy - which was ever so likely.

A flash of light as the moon peeks out from behind a cloud and reflects off the swinging wrench and it’s all the warning Al gets. He reacts as quickly as he can, rolling backwards away from Winry and coming to rest a few feet away kneeling down and using his hands for balance.

"Winry STOP! It's us!" Al shouts as he prepares to spring at her in case she decides to swing again.

...shit. Ed had sent Al because he'd really thought that Winry wouldn't try to do anything to him - and he was so, so completely wrong. He'd underestimated her brand of craziness by at least five points. Before he's even aware of what he's doing, he's already moved quick enough to push himself in front of Al, putting himself willingly into the line of danger.

"Look," he says, and points at his own face. "Ed!" He points behind him. "Al!" He points at himself again. "Edward!" Another point. "Alphonse!"

He grins in what he hopes is a winning sort of way. "We're back."

"You're back," Winry repeats, suddenly feeling as if her mind is dumb and slow. It's a bit hard to process, you see - she hasn't seen the brothers for three years, and now suddenly they've appeared before her. They're in her house, and she almost hit one of them, because she thought they were intruders. Almost hit -- 

\-- she raises the wrench again, and her eyes flash. "You're back," she says. "I thought you might be dead, you idiots, you left us all behind, and now you're back? Just come waltzing back in here and say you're back like nothing ever happened?"

She's not sure whether to smile or cry, hit them or hug them. Maybe all of the above. As soon as she puts each impulse in order of importance.

Al stands up from his crouch and smiles, walking towards Winry. He never realized just how much he missed her till right now.

"So are you going to hit us or welcome us home?" The grin that is splayed across his face is one of pure enjoyment.

"What," Ed says, before he can stop himself, "You mean, there's a difference?"

He's going to get hit. He knows he's going to get hit. He's already ducking and covering his head.

"Don't be silly," Winry says, in the sweetest voice she can manage. "I'm not going to hit either one of you. It's been far too long for me to do that."

She takes a step towards Al, opening her arms for a hug, instead. Everything about her is sweet, innocent, welcoming. Except for that glint in her eye.

Which Al misses entirely since he is so focused on the happy reunion of the moment. Running into Winry's arms, Al wraps her in one of the tightest hugs he's ever given.

"Al!" Ed starts to say, but he's too late, "Don't do it, she's just gonna - " He reaches out to grab onto the back of his brother's jacket to try to drag him away before Al can get hit. Because he saw the look in Winry's eyes.

Winry just uses the hug as a way to grab onto Ed's arm, and pulls him in closer. "Oh, look," she says. "Edward missed me, too. We should make room for him, shouldn't we, Al?"

What Ed didn't see is the gleam in his brother's eye. Or the demonic grin on his face. Al turns when his brother grabs him jumping onto his back trying to hold him in place.

"What!" Ed exclaims, his voice way too loud. "Al, you traitor, get off!" He flails as best as he can with Winry holding onto one arm and a sixteen year old boy trying to jump onto his back. That being, not very well at all.

"Why, Alphonse," Winry says, a bit of a purr in her voice. "You're trying to win back my heart, aren't you? Offering your brother up as a sacrifice."

Well. If he was trying, he was certainly succeeding, because that was one way to do it. Take one frustrated Winry and give her an Ed to hit, and you'll have one happy Winry after all.

"What do you think?" she asks him directly. "Should we go with the classic wrench, or should I be more creative?" She studies it carefully, and ignores Ed's flailing. "I think a bit of creativity would be nice."

Al gains a pensive pose, still hanging onto his brother's back. "There is something to be said for the classic wrench."

"There is also something to be said," Ed says, weakly, "for mercy." Winry wouldn’t really hit in him in the face, would she?

Why yes, Winry would hit that face. She's proven this on many occasions, hasn't she? She raises the wrench, takes the few steps to close the distance between her and the brothers -

\- and then lets it drop on the ground, somehow managing to hug them both at the same time.

Al's face flushes a red that matched his jacket. "Um, Winry... we need to breathe, you know?"

"Or at least lemme get him off my back," Ed adds, helpfully. "Al's gained a few pounds in his old age."

Winry laughs shortly at the both of them, but she doesn't relinquish her hold for a minute longer. "Welcome home, you jerks," she says, and can't help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, I can't remember who played Winry and her journal has since been deleted.


	29. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Russell find that saying goodbye a second time is harder than the first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamballa Plot, part 4.

There had been an earthquake a week earlier. It had frightened the citizens of Central and had been talked about for days. But it was mostly agreed that something like that wouldn't happen again for a very long time.

It seems that they were wrong.

The day the second one struck, Russell had worked out in the back garden in the morning, had lunch with Fletcher and, for someone unknown reason, had ended up visiting a familiar church. It had been a nice day outside, by all respects, and Russell had just come back from his chance meeting with Al. He and Fletcher were discussing what to have for dinner, Russell secretly  missing the food from the bar.

It just so happens that Russell wouldn't make it back to that bar for a very long time.

Quite suddenly, as these things happen, the floors and walls and windows - the entire world, it seemed - began shaking violently.

Beakers fell from the table to the floor, windows panes shattered, and Russell pushed Fletcher out of the way as one of the bookshelves that lined the wall crashed forward. Neither had time to spare a look at their ruined experiments, broken microscopes, and fallen plants, as they ran outside.

It’s a narrow street, lined with shops and homes, most of them more than one floor. And they were all crumbling.

A couple streets over, Ed is on the move through Central, dodging various pieces of debris and buildings as they fall apart around him. It's easier to adjust to the new weight and stability of his limbs than he thought it would be, and he's glad for it - he needs to be in the best condition possible if he wants to make something better out of this fucking dire situation.

His eyes are on the sky as he moves, and he's calculating quickly in his head how to get up to one of the airships. Once he gets up there, he can get closer to his goal, but it's a matter of getting from here to there. It's a wonder that he's not tripped over anything yet, but he has damn good reflexes. They'd only fail him if he let himself stop to think about the fact that this is his home breaking to pieces, and how much danger everyone is in.

But he's here to prevent it, not think about it, and if he stopped to do so, he might break. So there he is. Dodge, dodge, stare. Dodge, dodge, stare. Think. Think. A large piece of building falls and nearly hits him on the head - he claps his hands loudly and transmutes it before it can. Shouts a little as he does so, making his presence known.

He's an obvious force to anyone who might be paying attention.

Russell is a few blocks away from where he used to live, from where he had been forced to watch his home collapse upon itself. He had tried to stabilize the walls, but the vines had only lasted long enough for them to escape and he'd had to stop Fletcher from running inside to find the cat.

Then there had been the people running away from one direction, shouting about large objects in the air. Screaming, crying. And it can't just be a coincidence that this is all happening only a short time after his meeting in the church. When the door to the lost city was opened again.

He's trying to put that out of his mind right now, as he searches the deserted streets for his brother; they had somehow gotten separated while helping people escape. He'll have time later to figure out what to do next.

Drawn by shouting, Russell rounds a corner, stumbling over the rubble of a building, thinking that someone is calling out for help and stops at the sight of blond hair and feels himself staring stupidly because no, it can't be who he thinks it is. Even as much as Russell wants it to be, when did he even get back?  _ How  _ did he get back?

He stumbles forward, unconscious of the fact that he is doing so, eyes locked on Ed, the only other person with him on the street.

"Cowardly bitch," Edward directs towards the sky, his voice carrying loud and far. "Not even man enough to face things directly, you've gotta stay in the air where nobody can reach you!" It's obvious he's frustrated. He's caught his second wind, he's good to go - but he's not where he needs to be.

He tosses his ponytail over his shoulder as he looks around for ideas, and this directs his vision from the sky to the area around him. He's still adjusting his brain to alchemy again, and he's processing whether he can use it to get himself up there - he's too deep in thought to notice Russ yet, but he's acting enough like himself that it proves he really is here.

It's not Russell’s imagination, nor is it an explosion-caused hallucination. Edward Elric is here, and he's pissed. He even shows it by kicking at some rubble with his new leg.

It's as if Ed's yelling has somehow woken Russell from his state of shock so that he picks up his pace - almost running - to close the distance between them.

"Ed how..."  He stops, trying to settle on one question, made more difficult by the many things he wants to say. "What has been happening?" It's understandable that this is the first thing he can think of.

Edward's eyes widen as Russell approaches. While this was an encounter he should have expected, the moment he crossed the gate, it was one that he had put out of his mind. Perhaps for many reasons, chief among those being that if Russ was far away from Central, then he would be safer than most everyone else Ed cares about. He already has to deal with trying to protect far too many others - and his stress level rises at the sight of Russell Tringham.

"Russ," he says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't - you need to get yourself out of this town. Grab Fletcher and run."

Not even thinking about the fact that Russ is an alchemist too, and capable of fending for himself. Edward glances up at the sky. "There's a war going on."

The only reason Russell is still hanging around the deserted streets was due to his search for anyone in need of help. Vines tended to hold up walls long enough to get people out of dangerous buildings.

"I can't leave," he shakes his head, "not yet." It's still his home, even if everyone else has already fled. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't be dumb," Edward says, ignoring the statement and query entirely. "There's no reason you can't leave. None of this is - it's not your fault. You don't need to fix it."

This situation is grudgingly, slowly, teaching him to be more mature. But it's hard to do that, in the face of unnecessary danger.

"I could have run with everyone else," Russell replies, sounding calmer than he feels, "but this is my world too and I will fight for it." Because who better to fix something than the people who live there? Russell is involved… has been for a while now, really, and he would never forgive himself if he left Ed like this.

Edward studies Russell's face for a long, quiet moment; it's not clear what he's looking for, but finally he nods, satisfied that he's found it. "Fine," he says, "but if you get yourself killed..."

He trails off, but his words ring with a heavy warning, his eyes intense and dark.

Russell silently acknowledges that last comment by laying a hand on Ed's shoulder. He gives a reassuring squeeze, trying to communicate through touch what he doesn't think he'd be able to say out loud.

"What do you need me to do?" he asks suddenly, all business.

If Ed were able to muster up a smile, he would at the physical gesture. He wishes that he could, really, but since he can't, he just puts his mind quickly to think about what Russ might be able to do.

The problem is simple enough. Ed needs to get from point A (the ground) to point B (the air). But, even with alchemy, he's not sure what could be done with the materials around him, unless -

\- unless they make use of a few ridiculous measures. Ed's suddenly thinking of an old fairy tale from the other world, and it seems pretty damn perfect. There's that smile now, in a form of a smirk, and it's almost like the old Ed has returned. "Feel like using your alchemy, buddy?" He points up at the ships in the sky. "Because if you can apply your special brand to get me up that high, then I think you've earned your keep."

Russell can't help but smile at Ed's expression. It's familiar and comforting and he lets out a small laugh, thinking that maybe everything wouldn't be so bad after all. His mind is already racing with ideas: a tree, tall with a thick trunk, or a climbing vine - but attached to what? Maybe a combination of the two, or --

He pauses to look at Ed, his turn to grin. "What did you have in mind?"

"Eh," Ed says, and smirks even more. For once, he's willing to roll with the punches, and be the one that doesn't take himself seriously - maybe it's being home that's doing it to him. "How about a really big beanstalk?"

Russell's face seems to light up - something that really only happens when he gets the opportunity to do alchemy on such a large scale. Especially with something he's never attempted before. He creates the array in his mind, able to add things or take them away easily, quickly. Improvising.

Chalk in hand, he crouches down, sketching out a circle, lines, and symbols, with a practiced hand onto the pavement. Light flashes suddenly and Russell is confident that he made it work, combining the strength of a tree with the ability to grow like vines.

He steps back, out of the way of the rapidly growing beanstalk.

Edward steps back as well, not feeling like getting hit in the face by a giant plant. He puts his hands on his hips and watches it grow, before glancing at Russ. There's a look on his face, one that's caught somewhere between admiration and pride.

"I knew you could do it," he says. "Always been good with stuff like that. Could just kiss you, you talented bastard..."

There's that use of 'bastard' as a compliment, something he hasn't gotten a chance to do in far too long. Nor has he gotten a chance to deliver one of those kisses, and they've got a moment before the plant stops growing, so he grabs Russ by the collar and does exactly that.

In the dimestore novels that Ed's so fond of, the hero always earns one before he goes off to war. This can be his one.

Russell stands staring, head back, following the plant's progress skyward. It had been far too long since he'd done anything like this that he had almost forgotten what it felt like. He doesn't notice Ed's glance, momentarily distracted with mental notes for potential modifications, still in research mode.

And then Ed is speaking to him, grabbing him, and then kissing him and Russell is kissing Ed back, distracted from the plant by something just as welcome and someone just as important to him.

The beanstalk stops growing, leaving the faint smell of fresh dirt hanging in the air.

The kiss is over soon enough, but not before Ed has made sure they've both been thorough. He has no idea how this is going to go, or when he's going to see Russell again - he hates war for all of the uncertainty it brings, and this hasn't changed now that he has more to care about.

"I guess I've got to go now," he says, and his gaze is intense as he looks up at Russell - for once, he doesn't even show one sign of caring about the height difference. "But there's one thing I want you to remember."

He hasn't let go of Russell's shoulders, and his fingers dig in a little as he speaks. "I love you," he says, and his breath is almost taken away by this admittance of the truth. "And if there's a god up there, I fucking swear to him that I'm going to make it back to you."

Russell can do nothing but stare at Ed in shock during his confession, until his eyes close tightly and he sways a little before opening them again. Even if the actual tears aren't visible, the way Russell's eyes are pained and his voice choked, it's clear that they're only barely being held back.

He gives no warning before launching himself at Ed in a way that is more of a lean than a hug, even if he does have to crouch slightly to manage it.

Arms wrapped tightly around shoulders and face against Ed’s neck, Russell makes a sound like a muffled sob. "If anyone can do it - " his voices catches " - it will be you."

Russell holds on with everything he has, seemingly unable to let go, unprepared for what he’s feeling. He had no idea such a confession could hit so hard.

"Oh, Russ," Ed says, and his own voice cracks upon use, a fact that he doesn't even try to hide. "Don't do that, I can't - "

He runs out of words then, stopped far short of his goal, and it's not at all clear what he can't do. He doesn't even bother to try again, he just puts one hand in Russell’s hair and the other arm around his waist, caught between attempts to comfort the both of them. The silence is crowding in, and Edward can't hide his tears enough, nor is he even trying to.

He sniffles a bit, pathetically, closing his eyes and ignoring the plant with all he has. The goddamn War can wait one moment.

Quick thoughts pass through Russell's head, ones that involve asking Ed to stay, asking to go with him, asking why he even has to leave in the first place, but he knows he can't burden Ed with those things. They're selfish thoughts and he keeps them to himself. He's not sure how long he stays there, until his back starts hurting from the odd position or until it just feels right to let go.

But he finally stands and it's his turn to sniffle as he slides both hands down to catch Ed's.

"Be careful out there, okay?" he finally manages to say even if it does come out sounding broken. Saying goodbye a second time is turning out to be harder than the first.

"What," Ed says, as he squeezes Russell’s hands a bit in his own, trying to make a comforting gesture. "When am I ever reckless? I always think everything through."

It's an attempt at a joke, but it's a pretty dumb one, and falls far from its mark.

The attempt, at least, brings a little bit of a smile back to Russell's face and he can't help but think that he'll miss the banter.

"I'll keep a lookout for trouble so I can find you when you come back," Russell replies in return because he couldn't leave Ed's comment without a remark of his own. Though it's difficult to tell if he's actually joking or not.

"I'll try to brew it up extra interesting," Ed says, "just for you."

It's a struggle to make himself let go and step away, but he finally manages it, and walks over to the beanstalk. "Just gotta wait a minute," he says. "I don't see her just yet -- "

His eyes are narrowed and his gaze intense, like an animal hunting for its prey. It may not be clear what he's looking for, but when he spots the specific ship, he lets out a shout and jumps up to grab hold of the plant.

"She's not expecting any resistance because she's underestimated this world. We've gotta show her that we don't crumble just because some bitch decides to show off."

He looks down at Russell, for the first and likely only time in his life. "If you see any black crap, don't touch it. Don't let anyone touch it. It won't do you any good."

Russell's hands go to his pockets once Ed backs away, because he doesn't know what else to do with them, but he doesn't stop looking at Ed, wanting to make sure he won't forget what he looks like in this moment.

Russell nods in understanding, "I'll remember that," he tells Ed, looking up at him. "We'll take care of this world," he promises. There is going to be a lot to put back together.

"And I'll make sure there's one to take care of," Ed promises in return.

He's not sure he could tear himself away if he doesn't do it now, so he starts climbing, fast. No matter how much he wants to stay on the ground, he's the only one who knows the source of the war. And someone needs to stop her.

It's a quick decision, but Russell wants to leave Ed with something to remember, too and there's no way of knowing when he'll get another chance.

"Ed!" he shouts upward, hopefully loud enough to cover the distance that Ed has already climbed. "I love you, too!"

He may have thought to say it at the last minute, but that doesn't make it any less true. He may have only got the courage to say it himself because Ed said it first, and he only hopes waiting until won't distract Ed from what he needs to do.

No way would it be distracting. If anything, it just makes Ed all that more determined. It's something he can hold in his heart that's all his own and, no matter what happens today, nothing can take it away from him.

"Fuck yeah," Ed announces triumphantly, as much to Russ as to the world around him, "did you hear that, bitches? He loves me!"

He's stopped climbing for a moment, staring down the distance at Russ. "I'd crawl back down there and kiss you into eternity, if I could," Ed informs him. "But that'll have to hold off. You just think about it until you see me, eh?"

Russell can't help but laugh, not able to remember the last time he's actually laughed in happiness, in complete and unrestrained joy. Ed, it seems, is the only person with the ability to cause such a thing.

"I wouldn't want to think of anything else," Russell assures him, raising a hand into the air. Almost like he's trying to reach out to Ed.

Instead, he waves, his smile wide enough that even Ed is able to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how emotional this chapter always makes me. It's my favorite out of this entire story <3


	30. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Al are on their own, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamballa Plot, part 5! The last one but not the last in this story. We can't leave our heroes unhappy and apart forever.

It had all seemed to go so well for Edward, this time around. He had met up with his brother again and, in turn, they had met up with a certain Colonel bastard. That experience had been more than a little weird, and Ed finally has sympathy for how brain-breaking it must have been for Roy all these years, in the bar, not being able to say anything about Ed's future. He'd wanted to give Roy a similar treatment to what he'd given Russell, but any fond words or physical overtures would have only earned him strange looks - and, uh, far more questions from his brother than he needed right now. Ed had been forced to settle for a stupid sarcastic quip or two ( 'Too bad that eye-patch doesn't cover your mouth, too' ) to cover his frustration.

They'd met up at the ship and pulled a trick on the bitch. Ed had pretended to be defenseless and alone, and Al had put his soul into many pieces of armour. They'd set these loose on Eckart and knocked her unconscious long enough for Ed to control the ship to push it to the other side.

In the grand scheme of things, one would say that he had succeeded in what he had set out to do. He had stopped a war, despite the fact all of his alchemic knowledge and skill should be rusty. He had stopped an insane woman in her tracks, managing to send her and her stupid ship back across the gate. With the help of two others, he had managed to destroy each side of the gate, therefore making it impassable to all future attempts to destroy either world.

In the grand scheme of things, Edward Elric was a success.

In his own mind, he was a failure, and he would never be able to put things right again.

Alfons Heiderich was dead. Someone had shot him while Edward had been gone, because apparently he'd taken too long to get back. It's all Ed's fault, he knows it. If Alfons hadn't been here, if Alfons hadn't tried to send him across, if — there are far too many ifs, and it's impossible to change the past.

Alphonse Elric is with him now. He refused to stay on the other side of the gate. His brother is with him, and Edward only hopes that he doesn't lead him to his death, too.

He doesn't know when he'll see Roy or Russell again. He doesn't think he'll ever see Winry again. With his luck, the bar door will never open again and, with his luck, he'll fuck up looking for the uranium bomb... and even more people will suffer for his mistakes.

He's damaged from this war. He can't see the good in any of it. And, in true Edward Elric fashion, he will spend the next three years burying all of his issues, rather than learning how to deal with them.

He'll be correct about the bar door. It won't appear to him for three more years. Three years spent searching for the uranium bomb. And when he and Al finally find it...

Well.

It's possible that things won't go exactly according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a three year time jump for both of them. The story isn't over yet, but it is winding down. Not sure how many chapters are left or when I'll be able to edit them, so check out my [tumblr](http://www.korepersephone.tumblr.com) for updates!


	31. Russell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times passes and Russell moves forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out I had forgotten about this post, so here's one more Shamballa plot related chapter. An epilogue, of sorts?

The fireball had blazed overhead and Russell had watched, standing alone in the broken street, until he could stand no longer. He slumped against the beanstalk, taking a while to compose himself.

He hadn't had the heart to destroy the beanstalk yet, and he entertained the notion of just leaving it. As a monument and a reminder. It would eventually get cut down anyway, Russell finally decided, reaching up to remove a short length of vine to transplant later. He scratched a quick array to shrink the plant completely back into the ground, sending it back under the broken stones of the road.

Russell glanced up and down the street.

Time to move forward. 

* * *

Months passed.

Putting Central back together would be a huge task and it still looked liked it would be years before things would be back to normal. Russell and Fletcher helped as much as they could, until it became evident that not much more could be done.

The brothers went back to Xenotime for a short while, staying until Russell's restlessness led them to do some traveling.

Their traveling, which lasted for far longer than first planned, involved touring the country, researching, working, and never staying in one place for too long.

Not once since the disaster had he found the door back to the bar. He held out hope that it would appear one day when he needed it the most, and that maybe, _maybe_ , there would be someone there waiting for him. He never stopped looking.

Russell didn't talk much about why he felt the need to keep moving, that was something only he felt he understood completely. Anyway, he wasn't quite sure he could explain how he was both following and searching for something. Or maybe it was simply a way of keeping busy.

When the time came for them to return to where they had started, three years had passed.

Three years that had gone by in a stop and start motion that somehow seemed to match the pace of their journey. But, somehow, being back in Central and in their new shop calmed Russell down quite a bit and he settled in easily.

And, even if Russell sometimes had a far away look on his face while he worked, he was home and he was content.


	32. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion three years in the making.

Russell and Fletcher's shop wasn't anything too fancy, just a storefront with a cozy apartment upstairs and enough space for a small garden out back. There were plants of all kinds taking in the sunlight from the greenhouse style front windows that looked out into the street (the only really distinct feature of the place), bookshelf lined walls (filled with a collection three years in the making and still growing), and small tables and shelves scattered throughout the main room, every surface so covered by greenery that it was difficult to see what they rested on (and almost crowded enough to get lost in).

It hadn't been a very busy day so far; it was mostly the regular customers who had stopped by looking for advice on planting this or that or needing something fixed. Not very many people came in on Sundays.

Fletcher was away for the weekend, working on his own research, which left Russell with the place to himself. He was looking forward to getting some of his own research done that he had no time for during the week. He’s pretty sure that no one else would stop by today, but he leaves the open sign out and keeps the door between the front and back rooms open, just in case.

The lab takes up the back room of the shop and is by far Russell's favorite room in the place. There are two desks (Russell's is the messiest), a large work table dotted with a mix of microscopes, glass beakers, empty pots, and notebooks, a door into the back garden, and a staircase in the corner.

Russell decides to deal with the newly potted plants first, wondering if there is even any more room in the front to put them. Still, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, he is an alchemist, after all. He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

The front door opens with the telltale ring of a bell. While Sundays may be slow, it does seem that there's a new customer to be found - and yet, if Russell were to check, the front room may seem entirely empty.

You'd think Ed would have learned a lesson or two about sneaking around, after he tried to sneak onto the premises of the Fuhrer mansion, which had backfired pretty badly. But it seems like he hasn't learned a darned thing.

But that's okay, right? There's no guards around here, and Russell will be quick enough to forgive him for any heart attacks he might cause. After all, Ed finally managed to find him and fulfill a promise that he'd made three years ago.

He just wants to make it a bit of a surprise, that's all. Enjoy himself, since it took so much damn effort to get back. He's hiding behind one of the larger plants, and ignoring the annoying thought in his head that there are plants that can hide him sufficiently. He's never shaken off those size issues. He's stalking around, keeping an eye out for a familiar person, and waiting for just the right time to make his presence known.

It's habit that makes Russell turn to glance out into the main room. He can see the front door from where he's standing which usually gives him the advantage of spotting customers before they even notice him. Except for this time, it seems.

Russell frowns in confusion before heading into the front, thinking that maybe something caught the person's eye and they wandered off to look at it.

But no. The room is completely empty. Russell wonders if he's hearing things now, because there is no reason for the bell to be ringing on its own.

Russell makes a small 'hmm' sound, shrugging off the thought, before turning around to head back into the lab. He doesn't disappear for very long and instead comes back out holding a potted plant, unaware that there is anyone sneaking about.

Edward can't help but grin widely when he spots Russ, and it takes all of his effort not to step out right then and there. He has a good reason for waiting, you see - if he bides his time for a minute or two, he can study the way Russell has grown up and matured, and it's... well, it's a fine thing to study.

At nineteen, Russ has managed to grow into his height, somehow carrying it better than he had before. And it's only for that minute that Ed manages to repress any sort of reaction, letting out a wolf's whistle before fleeing behind another plant.

Russell turns, startled. He's pretty sure he isn't hearing things this time because that was definitely a whistle. He stays where he is, surveying the room, trying to see if he can spot anything out of place.

"Hello?" he says to the room at large, hesitant but friendly.

Ed stays hidden since he’s not looking to get hit in the face with a plant, or the pot it's inside, so he's waiting to see if Russ puts it down first. If he has to, he'll risk it - but he's not got a death wish.

But that doesn't mean he's not going to answer. He manages to keep his voice gruff and low, to mask it - trying to see if he can even pull this off for a little longer. "Lookin' for somethin' special," he says, having moved to a plant somewhere to Russell's left, now. "Think y'can help me?"

Russell involuntarily takes a step away from the spot where the voice is coming from.

"What is it that you're looking for?" he asks, keeping his voice steady and courteous though the grip he has on the pot gives away how unsettled he is.

Russell is going to stay on guard, at least until the stranger shows his face. Because, really, a disembodied voice is just plain creepy. Who knows what kind of person could be hiding back there.

"I dunno," Ed says. "I've got this plant that I inherited. It's all unwieldy and crap, prickly, and you can't even get near it without getting cut. I think this thing is gonna take more than just water, but I've got no idea what to do."

He's not really talking about a plant at all, really. It's nice to see his standards of description for himself.

"If I thought to say plants have a mind of their own, I'd say it misses the previous owner." He smiles a bit, unseen. Maybe he's not trying to disguise his voice anymore, and maybe he's not moving around anymore, either. "But we don't know if he's moved on, see?"

"I do believe that plants are sympathetic to those around them," Russell says. "So you might not be all that far off the mark."

He's hesitant about moving closer, but his curiosity is winning out over his uneasiness. Russell edges around the plant silently, craning his head in a way that he hopes will let him see behind the plant without it being obvious. Something about the voice is familiar to him...

"I may be able to help you with that," he continues, not able to see around the large leaves yet.

"Well," Ed says. "If you put down yours, I can give you mine. Then maybe you can take a closer look at it."

Or at least, Ed won't get hit in the face. Of course, he still remembers what those punches were like...

Russell figures he's safe enough without holding onto the pot like it's some sort of security blanket. Besides, it's not like there's a lack of greenery in the place to begin with. The sound of ceramic on wood signals that Russell has placed the pot onto a table.

"Let's see it then," he says in the direction of the voice.

"Yep," Ed says, and there's a bit of shuffling around. "Get ready."

One moment, Russ is standing there, empty-handed and probably confused. The next minute, he's been tackled. Ed's not trying to knock him down, but he's not going to complain if it happens - that would just makes the clinging easier.

He's got four real limbs now, he's older and he's got short hair, but surely Russell can't forget that face. "Surprise," Ed says, and beams at him. "I toldja I'd make it home."

Russell is thrown back in surprise, the table behind him the only thing keeping him on his feet. He doesn't think he'd be able to stand on his own, at this point. It's too much to take in every new thing at once, so Russell concentrates on the most important fact: Ed is home.

He'll process the rest eventually but right now he just stares, wide-eyed and speechless, at the face in front of him. He grips Ed’s jacket tighter, on instinct.

Ed is home.

It's a good thing that Ed knows Russ well enough to get that he doesn't always deal the best with shock, because otherwise he might take the lack of reaction personally. But, in this case, at least, Ed is Not Dumb.

So he just reaches up and pats Russ on the head, carefully, in a comforting sort of way. "Don't have a stroke or anything," he says. "S'just me. Not like it's the Queen of England."

Unfortunately, Russell will not get that reference.

Instead, his only reply is to wrap his arms around Ed in the sort of hug that makes it difficult to even breathe. His eyes are shut tight and he's shaking a little, but he somehow manages to say, "I knew… I knew you could do it," his voice is breathy but the relief is obvious.

Russell is not letting go anytime soon.

Ed doesn’t plan on letting him let go at this point, either, so they're even on that front. If Edward was really gonna be any plant, he'd be a vine, all grabby and clingy and refusing to relinquish any hold.

"I got scared," Ed says. "When the bar door never opened. I thought maybe I was gonna have to trade everyone I loved for Al and his memories, and - "

\- and he hadn't ever done a very good job of dealing with that, so he's just going to cut that statement off right there. He bites his lip and then grins, pressing a kiss to Russell’s cheek, near his ear.

"Equivalent exchange is bullshit," he says. "Don't let anyone tell you different."

"I couldn't find the door either," Russell tells him, hands clenching, "and I thought for sure that someone was trying to keep us apart."

"If they were trying to keep us apart," Edward says, his tone suggesting that if he found out someone was trying to do so, he would make them regret the day they were born, "they sure failed at it now."

All those worries and doubts are no longer important and Russell lets out a sigh as if he's trying to expel them. "I've missed you," he whispers, not sure if Ed needs to hear it but wanting to say it anyway.

He holds onto Russell even tighter, as if letting him go would mean they would get separated again. "I missed you too," he says, "and it's not going to happen again."

"So you did it then. Whatever you had to do?" Russell asks quietly. It's not a doubt, he just wants to make sure. Why else would Ed be back, anyway?

"Yeah," Edward says. "Even pulled off a few extras." He sounds pretty proud of this. "And you've got a pretty great store. This is what you've been doing all this time?"

"Only recently..." Russell replies, trailing off. Russell pulls back a little so he can look at Ed properly because something has just occurred to him.

Ed's hair is short.

"Why is your hair gone?" he asks stupidly. Running his hands through Ed's hair just won't be the same anymore.

Ed has to laugh at that, and it sounds terribly nervous. He runs a hand through the back of it, more than a little self consciously. "I dunno," he says. "I felt like I had to move on. It was a good way to..."

No, he does know why he did it. He's just not sure how to explain it. Not without it sounding stupid.

Russell had always identified Ed with long hair because it had been that way since they first met. He liked it when Ed's hair was long and this will take some getting used to.

"It looks good," he says simply, bringing a hand up to ruffle it a little, like he was curious to see what it felt like.

Ed grins. He's not a vain person - you learn not to be one pretty early on, if you lose a couple limbs after committing a sin or two - but it was still the right thing to say, and it shows.

"It's taking a lot of getting used to, for me," he says. "Not used to all of it not being there." He shrugs. "A lot less work, though."

Russell has a fond grin on his face as he listens to everything Ed has been saying. He can't help it. He moves his hands to either side of Ed's face and leans down slightly to kiss him. He may have been wanting to do that for some time now.

That shuts Ed right up, in the middle of what could have turned into a full-blown ramble. That's okay, it wasn't that important, and he's certainly not complaining.

It's been three years since they had any chance to do this, so Ed even ignores his usual reluctance to admit anything about his height, standing on his tiptoes so that he can put his best efforts into making it a proper kiss.

Russell doesn't resist, pulling Ed closer to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders. A thought crosses his mind and he stops suddenly, pulling his face away.

"You're back for good, then?" he asks, hesitantly, almost like he's afraid of the answer. He can't help it if he wants to be sure.

"I'm back," Ed verifies. "I'm not gonna die again, I'm not gonna leave through some gate, I'm not gonna disappear for months on end." He pauses. "That doesn't mean there's not a little trouble, but I can deal with it."

He always does.

All of that sounds worse when rattled off in a list, but Russell nods anyway.

"You know, I'd be worried if there wasn't any trouble," Russell comments. Still, it might be nice for things to quiet down for a bit.

Ed snickers. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I might, too."

He looks a little concerned now, though, despite the fact he'd laughed only a moment ago. "It's the kinda trouble where you gotta pretend I didn't come here," he says. "If people thought you knew I was around, you’d get in trouble too." There's guilt in his eyes now, but really... what else had he been supposed to do? He had to make sure Russell was doing okay. There wasn't any choice in the matter.

"That sounds like more than a little trouble," Russell says, serious. Ed telling him something like that is definitely going to make him concerned. There's still the fact that Russell would never tell Ed to stop visiting. They would just have to be more careful about it.

Edward laughs a little, the sound all shades of nervous. "Okay," he says, "I guess it's more than a little." He gives Russell a bit of a curious look. "How much do you know about how the military works, anyway?"

Russell shakes his head. "Not very much, actually," he says. There had been a point when he'd tried to learn more it but that had been years ago and he'd changed his mind about becoming a state alchemist, anyway. "Does this have something to do with you disappearing for a few years?"

"Yeah," Ed verifies. "Exactly. To them, it means I abandoned my duties, and went AWOL. So I've gotta face a trial." His voice is pretty flat about it, as if it's all happening to someone else. "I just need to do a little more preparation before I'm ready for that."

Russell hadn't thought of it that way. "Is there anyway I could help you?" Because it sounds important, and big, and Russell doesn't want Ed to have to go through it alone.

"By not getting in trouble, too," Ed says, giving him a stern look. "That'd just make it worse."

"Yes, but, besides that," Russell insists, voice firm. There may issues here that include not wanting to be left out and the unspoken fear that Ed will suddenly change his mind about Russell.

He wants to be there for Ed and he's not sure how else to show it.

"I guess," Ed says slowly, thinking about it, "helping me catch up with the city. I gotta figure out good places to squirrel away while I'm putting everything together, and I don't exactly know where anything is anymore."

Five years away from a place does that to you.

"I do know of a few places..." Russell trails off, thinking. After all, helping rebuild a city can leave a person with insider knowledge about the place. "Of course, you can always stay here, if you need to," the offer is sincere, if a little hesitant.

"We'll have time for that after everything is dealt with," Edward promises. "Roy assured me that if I deal with everything quickly and honestly, I won't get put in jail or anything. But, right now, I gotta worry about making people look like accomplices." He frowns. "And I don't want you to get implicated."

Russell nods, he can understand that feeling, at least, and gives Ed's hand a light squeeze to reassure him. Russell isn't so reckless anymore, though the urge to be has never really left him.

"You don't need to be anywhere for a little bit longer though, do you?" he asks.

"Nope," Ed says, and offers him the barest hint of a grin. "I wouldn't just run in here to have to run right back out. I'm not that kinda jerk." He can be a jerk other times, and he'll fully admit it, but -- not this time.

Russell could make a joke about being a jerk but he's still hung up on the whole Ed being home thing.

"Want me to show you around, then?" Russell asks with a smile. It’s very easy to see that he's rather proud of his store.

"Heck yeah," Ed says. "Show off your stuff." He sounds pretty eager to see it all. He still doesn't understand much about this kind of thing but he's gonna be proud of Russ, no matter what's around them.

Russell leads Ed by the hand toward the back room.

"It's a bit crowded out there," he comments, reaching the door to the back garden. "I'll show you my favorite place first."

There's something about a flourishing garden in the middle of a city that appeals to Russell for some reason. It's a surprisingly good sized space and Russell's talent for making things grow anywhere is obvious with the variety of plants growing so close together.

"Whoa," Ed says, once the door is open. "How'd you manage all this?" Because you wouldn't think anything could survive long in this city, really. Too dank and dirty - or maybe that's just the reaction of a guy used to life in the country.

"A lot of careful planning and a few well-placed arrays," Russell replies with a grin. He’s a city boy at heart; as much as he enjoys the countryside, he just doesn't feel at home until he's back in Central.

If you ever need a peaceful spot to make you forget the noise of the city, then Russell's garden is the place to be. There may be a few familiar looking trees near the back, as well.

"Predictable," Ed comments, pointing at the lemon trees. He doesn't sound like it's a bad thing, though, considering he's grinning when he says it.

Russell's obsession with lemons is one of those things that will never change so he is pleased to see that Ed doesn't seem to mind it at all.

"Do you want to try some?" Russell asks with a bit of a sideways smile. They're delicious, in his opinion.

Ed makes a face at him. "Uh-uh. Not even for you." Too sour! He's not crazy.

Maybe Russell should have clarified that one, but Ed's reaction was far too entertaining.

"I don't mean eating one," he replies, shaking his head slightly in amusement. "I was thinking more like some lemonade."

"Oh," Ed says. "Okay." He pauses. "But only with lots of sugar." If Russell dares to give him sugar, anyway.

"Whatever you like," Russell says with a small nod. He should probably think twice about giving Ed sugar, but he doesn't care, at the moment. There's a kitchen upstairs, so he leads Ed back inside and up the stairs to where he left the pitcher, freshly made this morning.

"You just want to spoil me," Ed comments, as he follows. "Don't you know it's dangerous to do that?" Because then he does things like cling, and nobody really wants that, do they?

Russell doesn't mind at all - especially not the clinging - considering it has been Three Years. He just hasn't had much opportunity to spoil Ed yet and he’s missed him too much, more than he thought was possible.

"Dangerous, maybe," Russell says offhand, reaching the kitchen and pouring two glasses, "or I could just be making up for lost time," he finishes with a look in Ed's direction. He makes sure that Ed's has extra sugar mixed in before handing him a glass.

"Too much lost time," Edward says. "Far more than necessary."

He drinks it, slowly, before setting the glass down on the counter hard. He gives Russell a Look before grabbing his collar and pulling him into a hard kiss. "Lost time," he breathes, his voice dark.

Russell has missed that look. The brief kiss they shared downstairs made Russell remember how long three years actually is. This kiss is making him forget that Ed had ever been gone.

"Too long," he replies, his voice low and urgent and the impulse to push Ed against a wall or better, a bed, is getting stronger.

"Yeah," Ed says, his hand creeping down and briefly gripping the front of Russell’s pants. "I can tell just how much."

Russell lets out a short moan. "Still the charmer I see," Russell comments breathlessly, leaning in to nip at Ed's neck. He pushes his hips into Ed’s as his own hands slip down to grip Ed's backside, backing him against the counter and pressing insistently against him.

"Hell yeah," Ed expresses, and lets himself be pushed. It's a bit sharp on his back, but like hell if he cares right now. There are other far more interesting feelings going on right now. He is a very willing participant, pushing back just as insistently, untucking Russell’s shirt and sliding his hands under it. "Anywhere you want to be touched?" he purrs out. "You gotta tell me, Russ. Guide me through your needs."

"Lower," he gasps out, the shock of Ed's hands against his bare skin making his heart race. Russell slides a leg between Ed's thighs and brings his fingers up to dip inside the waistband of his pants.

Ed, somehow still able to tease even when his breathing is affected, even when he can't help but press against Russell’s hand, slides one hand up instead and plays his fingers over a nipple, while his other slides down into Russell’s pants.

Fast, fast, fast paced strokes, nothing else fits, nothing else will fill the want.

Russell's breath hitches as he makes small noises, encouraging, his eyes hidden beneath half-closed eyelids. Even in his distraction, Russell manages to slip his hand down to touch Ed through his pants, squeezing and stroking, his breathing speeding up, getting louder, finally sliding his hand past the waistband to grip him, stroking quickly.

"Waited… for you..." Russell says between breaths and in not-so-coherent sentences "...only you..." and he feels that it needs to be said. He would have waited longer if he had to.

Ed buries his face in Russell’s neck, his moans a little stifled now, but no less passionate in their expression. "Fuck," he mutters, "how I wanted you, I t-thought about you s-so much, had to hide it from Al..."

His brother didn't know a damn thing about either of his relationships, not even after three years, and it was the most awkward thing in the world sometimes. It'd all have to come out now, but this isn't the time or place to think about it.

"W-want to just get on my hands and knees and g-give you the best fuckin' ride ever."

Faster, faster, faster now, not too fast, but fast enough, encouraging, dark moans at both what he's feeling and what he's doing.

"Louder for me, now."

The way Ed is talking is driving him crazy and Russell hisses out "Y-yes… I want that… I want… all of it..." and suddenly his head goes back, grip becoming tighter, unable to hold back anymore and he's there, legs shaking, a deep groan rising from his throat and feeling as though he is about to collapse.

"D-don't have to wait... not anymore... you get all of it..." Assurances, true assurances, and so many words to say, but Ed can't manage them anymore. Russell's climax set off his own, and Ed follows after, his voice nearly a shout.

"Uhn," is the only thing he manages after, feeling like a plate of jelly about to collapse.

Russell rests his forehead against Ed's, waiting for his breathing to slow to normal. He brings a hand up to brush the side of Ed's face.

"Ed..." he begins, his voice still shaky, but whatever he was about to say he doesn't. He simply wraps an arm around Ed, content to not let go for a while.

"Yeah," Edward answers back, just as low, and leans into Russell, arms around him tight.

They should probably move, but they're okay like this for awhile, he thinks. They'll be more than okay for a long, long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were originally going to have more trial related plot but real life started getting in the way of role play. It's getting close to the end now so I might stretch out posting the last few chapters (also because I'm busy again).
> 
> For backstory: "[...after he tried to sneak onto the premises of the Fuhrer mansion, which had backfired pretty badly](http://notashortbean.livejournal.com/3916.html#comments)."


	33. Interlude: Fletcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fletcher finally finds the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing my sister ([ikatsabby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikatsabby/profile)) as Fletcher!

"What ..." Fletcher looks around. This was definitely not his room. This was a bar ...

_ The  _ Bar. The one his brother had told him about, years ago. The one he could never find, no matter how hard he tried. He's finally here!

Fletcher looks behind him, at the door he had just come through, and wonders if his brother is here.

He smiles at the thought of surprising his brother and goes off to look for him, in hope.

Russell thought he would never see this place again. But, here he is, shadowed in the doorway, hand clenching the handle in surprise. The scene behind him is the front room to the shop. He had just closed it down for the night and was heading into the back.

Many things have happened to Russell over the past three years but it looks as though the bar hasn't changed one bit.

Fletcher continues his wandering, this way and that, eyes wide with wonder, taking in absolutely everything. This place is so much better than he had imagined, it overpowered his thoughts. He almost forgets for a moment that he's looking for his brother.

Besides, Fletcher can see plenty of blonde-haired heads in the room, but none of them attached to suspenders (that he could tell).

Russell finally manages to close the door behind him, thoughts jostling around in his head....

...His garden plot has most likely been horribly unattended... he wondered if his room was still here...  or if anybody he knew was still hanging around...

But, before he could deal with any of those things, he makes his way over to the bar and orders some tea.

This is obviously the first thing that needs to be done.

Fletcher, figuring that since this is his first time in a bar, any bar,  _ ever _ , he should do it right. He has to practically climb onto one of the tall stools, idly wondering about what kind of drink one ordered when at a bar.

Until he looks to his left and sees his brother. He wonders how he had not noticed him, since he sat down right next to him. He's quickly overcome with joy and doesn't care.

To be fair, Russell hadn't noticed Fletcher either. But, then again, Russell wasn't really even expecting him to be here.

The sound of clinking china is heard but Russell manages to set his cup down before spilling or breaking anything. "...when did you get here, Fletcher?"

It may not be the most intelligent thing he's ever said, but at least it gets one question out of the way.

Fletcher ignores Russell's quickly thought out yet relevant question, and goes straight to shouting, "brother!" and hugging him.

The tea cup may have fallen to the floor and shattered. Fletcher is terribly excited.

Teacups can be easily fixed anyway.

Russell is stunned for a moment before he finally hugging his brother back. "It hasn't been that long, has it?" Russell jokes, slightly amused but mostly pleased. "I have to hear how you found the door," he adds, leaning back and pushing a cup of coffee toward Fletcher.

"I don't know what to say," Fletcher says, reaching for the warm cup. "I was opening the door to my room, and then I was here! I hadn't even thought about this place in years." He adds, almost as an afterthought.

But, he could join his brother here now, and that made him happy!

"I haven't been able to _find_ this place in years," Russell replies. "I am so glad that you finally made it here."

Because, even though Fletcher had assured him that he believed the story about the bar, Russell still had doubts sometimes.

"You are okay though, right?" he asks. Russell can't help but slip back into the overprotective older brother role. "I hope it's not too shocking."

It definitely had been for him, the first time.


	34. Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell gets caught with one of Ed's books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the quoting of really bad porn!

Russell is currently content with the world ...which is fairly obvious with the way his feet are kicked up on a table. He's got a book propped open and a pencil behind his ear as well, things he's rarely ever without, the only difference being that he's actually not studying for once.

He also might be grinning every so often over what he's reading.

"You stole one of my books, didn't you?" Ed asks, sitting himself on the edge of the table, avoiding Russell’s feet. "Shame on you." He's grinning too.

Russell knew he was going to get caught eventually, but he couldn’t help it. Ed’s books from the other world are damn entertaining. "Well, when you just leave them lying around for everyone to read..." Russell drawls, nudging Ed playfully in the ribs with his foot.

"That's to distract you from the other books. It's a great tactic, I see."

"Keeping all the good ones for yourself are you?" Russell grins. "I should have known."

"I'm not sure you'd approve of them." He pawns them off of Roy, instead. Or, that's his story, anyway.

Russell approves of books in general so now he's curious about these other ones that Ed has been keeping from him. "What, you have some trashy romance novels stashed away somewhere?"  Russell may tease but he doesn't judge. Nope.

"Something like that." Ed laughs.

And here Russell had been joking. There's a pause before he finally says, "...really?"

"Surprised, plantboy?" Ed's eyes spark with amusement.

"I never thought you would be the type to read romance," Russell comments, sitting up and trying not to look interested. "Are they the ones with silly heroines and big guys with muscles?" Actually, Russell may be taking a bit  _ too  _ much of an interest in this.

"No way," Ed says. "It's not romance." He grins at Russ. "It's straight out  _ porn _ ."

Russell stares at Ed before declaring, "now you're just joking around."

"No way," Ed says, swinging his legs. "You want me to quote some to prove it to you?"

"Alright," Russell says leaning in, arms resting on the table, "what've you got?" He’s wondering what Ed is actually going to quote at him.

Ed clears his throat in a slightly dramatic fashion.

_ "Ralph made the first move. He took a step forward and put one hand at the base of Lex's neck, and moved them both closer together: with his other hand he reached out and felt for Lex's prick still inside the fastness of his britches. _

_ This had an immediate effect on Lex. He felt his prick begin to harden, a familiar feeling, but never before at the touch of another. He moved closer to Ralph and instinctively put his arms round him to give him a hug. Ralph bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on Lex's forehead. Lex looked up quickly into the eyes of Ralph in surprise. He smiled, and gave the older lad a kiss. _

_ ‘Well, Master Lex. You all right?’ _

_ ‘Well, Ralph Tooley. That was good.’ _

_ Ralph reached down and caught hold of Lex's hand and placed on his own prick. _

_ ‘That's a big one?’ _

_ ‘Yours will be as big when you're my age.’” _

Russell blinks. And also feels like his face is on fire.

"You cannot be serious," Russell mutters. "People actually  _ read  _ that?  _ You  _ read that, enough times to  _ memorize  _ it?" The shock may take some time to wear off. "Please tell me there isn't any more."

"I memorize everything the first time I read it, darling," Ed says cheerfully. He takes that last statement as a challenge.

_ "Lex lifted the hem of Ralph's smock, and worked his hand into the breeches, so that he could touch and hold, what seemed to him, a huge, hot and hard prick. He felt a hot liquid lubricating his fingers. _

_ ‘Shall us take these clothes off?’ _

_ Lex just nodded. _

_ Ralph undid the buttons on Lex's shirt, and removed it. Dropping it onto the hay that was being stored in the linhay. He then undid the britches, and lowered them. He knelt in front of Lex gazing at his prick. _

_ ‘Is it alright?’ asked Lex, with a slight note of anxiety in his voice. _

_ Ralph looked up. ‘Sometimes when I sit down to a good meal, a special meal, I look at it for a moment, enjoying it with my eyes, before tucking  in to eat it. I'm just looking at your lovely prick first.’” _

Russell is trying very hard to keep his composure but the whole thing is so hilarious that he has to laugh. It was either that or go insane over how awful it all was.

"Okay that's enough, I get it!" Russell laughs, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Do I even want to know how you got a hold of this stuff?"

"You'd be surprised what you can find in a library," Ed says, smoothly. He won't specify which.

Russell shakes his head, partly in disbelief, partly in amusement. "You never cease to surprise me." 

Although, if he really thought about it, it probably shouldn't come as such a shock.


	35. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's birthday has come around again. A lot has changed since the first birthday in the bar.

Ed is in the bar, ignoring both the fact that it's his birthday today and that there are people around who are aware of this fact. Ed has always followed the belief that ignoring things makes them go away. So, instead of thinking about how he's really fucking old, he's concentrating on a really horrible book that tries to biograph him and his brother. The amount of things they get wrong is kind of hilarious.

He's crossing out any reference to his height, though. It's just a necessity.

Someone is sneaking up on him. Someone with a cake. Russell places it on the table in front of Ed, slides into the seat next to him, and lights the candle with a quick touch to a hidden array.

It only has one candle. There's no way Russ would put more on it than that… he has a better sense of self preservation and likes all his limbs exactly where they are.

It was a good choice with the candles. His efforts are appreciated: Ed rewards him with a grin.

"Thanks, man," he says. "But we gotta share it." Look at that, he's not even threatening to eat it all himself!

"I was hoping you'd say that," Russell replies. After all that time making it, he hasn't even had a chance to try it yet. Russell is prepared so there is also a cutting knife and two forks on the plate. "You ready to do the honors?"

"I don't even have anything to wish for, you know," Ed says. "I already have everything I want." What else could he need?

Such an admission from Ed brings a smile to Russell's face and he reaches over and lightly touches Ed's hand. "Maybe you can wish for nothing to change then," Russell suggests, giving a brief squeeze.

"Kind of a risky wish, but I can do that." He might sound a bit hesitant but it's the first time in his life he's ever said this stuff, let alone actually trusting in that kind of wish. He's growing.

Ed may be slow to the punch on realizations but maybe he will realize that the whole birthday-growing-up thing isn't so bad after all. Russell grins, "it is tradition to make a wish, after all."

Ed blows out his candle quickly, before he can change his mind about it.

"So, who else has remembered that it's your birthday?" Russell asks as he starts serving up the cake.

"Winry did," Ed says. "Dunno about Al." He makes a dismissive hand gesture, one he doesn't really mean at all. "Guess I'll find out sometime." His eyes are shadowed for a moment before he shrugs it off. "It's fine, anyway," he says. "It's good."

"Don't worry, he'll come around," Russell says in a sympathetic voice. He can usually tell when Ed is pretending something isn't bothering him.

"Shouldn't be anything to come around  _ from _ ." Not after everything that’s happened in the past eleven years, anyway.

"Maybe he has some things to work through on his own," Russell adds. "But he is your brother so I know he'll figure it out." He gives Ed a reassuring smile. "Now come on. You're not allowed to be depressed on your birthday."

"I guess you've got a challenge to fix me, huh?" Ed is mostly joking but he knows Russell has a good chance of actually achieving it, so he just grins.

"Well, cake is only the first part of the plan," Russell replies. "The rest will have to be a surprise." Though Russell is sure it won't be too difficult to guess.

"Trying to surprise a great state alchemist? Might not work, buddy." Ed may be bad at putting on airs, but he enjoys doing it anyway.

"Thought I'd give it a try," Russell plays along, shrugging. "I  _ can  _ get pretty inventive..." But Ed already knows that.

"When you get inventive, I get a little worried." That's a total lie and it shows in Ed's smirk.

Russell leans in closer, arm resting across the back of Ed's chair and mouth near his ear. "The good kind of worry, I hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bit of free time while my thesis is in revision so I figured I'd post the last of these before I have to disappear again... and then I can get back into writing new stuff soon!


	36. Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Russell's birthday and Ed surprises him with something special.

It may have been quite some time since a certain alchemist has been seen in the bar but, well… when the person you want to see most spends more time at home than in the bar, there isn't too much reason to be here at all anymore.

Still though, Russell does miss the place sometimes. Today is one of those days where Russell felt like all he wanted to do was sip some of Bar's exquisite lemonade and lounge down by the lake. It may also happen to be his 20th birthday but he's not the kind of person to shout that around.

Unlike other people, Ed has no choice as to when he's in the bar so if he hasn't been here in awhile either, that's the fault of the door. It really has been too long it if surprises him this much to see the place. Russell might not be the type to mention the day, but Ed definitely will. He takes a guess to where Russell might be and spots him down by the lake.

"BIRTHDAY BOY!" Ed shouts, tackling the poor guy.

Ed should be glad that he doesn't get lemonade spilled on him as Russell topples over, making a noise of protest that he doesn't really mean. Because yeah, having Ed on top of him? Not such a bad place for him to be.

"You came here for your birthday, huh? What made you think of that?" Especially after all this time. Ed doesn't get off of him because he’s comfortable and he doesn't have to.

Russell shrugs in reply -- as much as he can while laying down, anyway. "This place brings back a lot of memories," he says, thoughtfully. Most of them good, thankfully, like the ones that involve Ed. He must be getting nostalgic in his old age. Or something.

"Don't say things that make you sound old," Ed says. "That makes me  _ ancient _ ."

Russell crooks his head to look up at Ed properly. "Listen to us," Russell says, amusement evident in his voice, "we sound like we're eighty." There's plenty of time for them to be old when they actually are, after all.

"Being eighty will be pretty great," Ed says, "if you're still around."

That's something Russell thinks about a lot. Ed doesn't know it yet but Russell would be perfectly happy to live out his life with him. He's sure he’ll build up the courage to say it out loud, one day.

Russell pulls Ed a little closer. "Especially since we'll still have our good looks," he says.  _ And each other _ , is implied.

"I dunno, I might get ugly when I'm old." Ed doesn't really believe that, but it's fun to joke about. "Think you'll still love me then?" He messes a bit with Russell’s hair.

There's that familiar feeling again, still new and surprising like the first time, the one he only gets around Ed. "No matter what," he says, close to a whisper. Russell gently runs his fingers through Ed's hair, watching him.

"I won't have any problems with feeling unrequited, then," Ed says. He's always had a hard time thinking about the future and anticipating being around for something, or even  _ wanting  _ to stick around but, Russell makes him want to. It's a gift. And, despite any quips he might make sometimes, all of that feeling is behind his voice when he says just one word. "Good."

The future looks pretty great from where Russell is at, especially after everything that has happened. Sometimes Russell still can't believe that Ed was able to make it back. Make it back to Al, to home, to  _ him _ . He smiles a little at the thought.

"Any birthday surprises today?" Russell asks, a bit hopefully.

Ed sucks at thinking of presents. Like,  _ really  _ sucks. He either thinks of something dumb or ends up giving them something they already had. In this case, he thinks he kinda messed up but he'll still give it anyway. "Uh, yeah, but don't tell me if you hate it. We gotta get up to see it, though."

Russell thinks it over for a moment but his curiosity overrides everything else. "Alright," he says propping himself up on his elbows and giving Ed a playful grin, "show me."

"Okay, uh, yeah," Ed says, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to help him up. "We gotta walk a little."

Russell hauls himself up with Ed's help but doesn't let go of his hand. "Follow you." He's really excited but trying not to show it. He does give Ed's hand a light squeeze, though.

Ed squeezes back and then starts walking. "I was thinking, what does Russ like best? I got a lot of things on a list but I decided you might like the effort it took for this one."

Russell can also be fairly obvious about things he likes so it wasn't hard to narrow it down. Helped Ed out a lot, actually. They’re outside of the garden area when Ed comes to a stop. "This isn't the only thing you're getting but this is the one thing that's at the bar, so."

In the back are three small and meager lemon trees. Ed couldn't get them to do anything other than look scraggly, but he's been trying his best for awhile. He may have accidentally killed a few before this, too. He sucks at gardening and he sucks at trying to have a green thumb but he had to try anyway.

Russell hasn't been to the garden in a while, which is sad because he used to work there, years ago (had he really been 15 then?) but he notices the trees right away.

And he is so very pleased and touched that Ed would think of the things he loves the most. It may have crossed his mind before that Ed merely puts up with his weird obsession with lemons but this shows that Ed actually understands how much they mean to him. It’s this fact that Russell appreciates the most, even more than Ed's attempt to grow them when plant alchemy is obviously not his specialty.

Russell is silent for a moment as all of this occurs to him before he leans over to wrap his arms around Ed and bury his face in his neck.

"Thank you," he says, quietly. It's simple, but he means it wholeheartedly.

Ed knows a little about liking something so much people think you're obsessed. In fact, he thinks it's pretty healthy to be sort of obsessive at times, so how could he  _ not  _ see the importance of it?

Ed was mostly worried that, if his attempt looked lame even to himself, it would mean the his gift was beyond the limit of enjoyment and had been sent straight into bad territory. But, Russell likes it, so he didn't fail.

"I'm glad you like it," he says, as he hugs him back.

It sounds silly but Russell would probably like anything Ed got him, just because. "How long have you been working on this?" He is genuinely interested, having no idea if Ed had ever worked with plants before, and he's impressed that he stepped out of his comfort zone, for him.

In all honesty, Russell could give Ed thin air and he'd love it, so they're in the same boat there. "A couple months, I guess."

Russell nods in approval. It took him a lot longer than a couple months to do something like that when he was first learning.

"They're wonderful," he says. Russell already knew Ed was talented, but he still likes when Ed shows him just how much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shh Russell you're not old.
> 
> Only one chapter left :( I'm sad to see them go for a second time.


	37. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little background:  
> [Ed angsting about his trial](http://notashortbean.livejournal.com/5371.html#comments) while staying with Roy to keep Russell from possibly being implicated.
> 
> The trial was supposed to be another mini-plot where it seemed very likely that Ed was going to be locked up for going AWOL. We never got around to writing it though, as things were winding down, role-play wise. We never wrote anything more after this. I hope this provides a little closure, at least.

The past couple of months had been stressful and, even though the trouble was officially over, Russell was still feeling some residual anxiety. At least Ed had pulled through, compared to some of the horrible things Russell had imagined happening when he couldn't sleep.

He'd possibly worried  _ too  _ much, but when you finally have something you've wanted for a while, it's hard to be calm about the possibility of losing it.

Russell finds a quiet corner of the bar. Hopefully some tea will help him relax.

Maybe the person Russell had been worrying about could help with that stress? Well, either way, Ed's gonna try. It's sort of a necessity since no one likes a sad Tringham. Ed doesn't, at least, because it meant Russell was suffering. He's not even thinking about the fact he hasn't been to the bar in a super long time, either. Ed can deal with thinking about that later.

"Hey, you," Ed says as he approaches. He runs a hand through Russell’s hair, a fond gesture he employs frequently. "You look like someone's fallen into a well."

It always helps when Ed is nearby. The only times Russell got more depressed during this whole crisis was when Ed wasn't around. He leans into the touch with a small smile, feeling the warmth flow back into him as he looks up at Ed, obviously very glad to see him.

"Sometimes I think maybe I have," he replies.

"Yeah?" Ed really doesn't like the sound of that. "Why's that?" He used to tell himself all the time that there wasn't any possible way his presence actually helped Russell, but he can sort of see it now. It helps when trying to fix things, at least.

It's easier, now, to talk about what he's feeling. Russell has Ed to thank for that. But sometimes his old habits return and he finds himself hiding from them like he used to when he was younger. Then he thinks about what that would do to Ed and takes a deep breath, reaching for Ed's hand.

"Everything that's been happening lately… things have looked pretty dark."

Funny how Ed could help someone get better at talking, when he absolutely sucks at it himself.

"It's getting better. The stupid trial stuff is over with, yeah?" He squeezes Russell’s hand for a moment, strength to lend strength.

Russell is grateful for that.

"I know, it's just... I still worry that something might happen," he begins, absently running his thumb over the back of Ed's hand, "or they might change their minds and I would..." he looks at Ed, "...I would lose you."

"Nope," Ed says. "Not possible. I'm not going anywhere." His voice is firm. "You can't lose me because I'm yours."

What a relief it is to hear those words. Russell leans toward Ed and wraps his arms around his waist. "The trial was taking too long," Russell's voice is slightly muffled from where his face is planted somewhere near Ed's middle, "I'm glad it’s over."

Yeah, the trial had been pretty rough. Ed hadn't been able to let anyone into the courtroom for support and Roy had barely helped him - but just barely. It was over now, and it could have been much worse, but that doesn't mean Ed has to like the results he did get.

He pets Russell’s hair again while he tries to think of something to say. Finally: "yeah, I figure the judge decided he was too annoyed by my personality to persecute me anymore."

Russell gives a small laugh, not wanting to move just yet. "Is that really what happened?" It wouldn't be surprising if it had but Russell wants to know everything that happened so he'll stop creating terrifying scenarios in his head.

Russell doesn't need to move. Ed will let him stay where he is for as long as he wants. "Nah," he says. "It mostly involved me having to suck it up and take it."

Ed really didn’t understand how that might sound before he said it. Russell snorts in amusement this time. It's a good sign that Ed is making him laugh this much.

Under normal circumstances Russell would have made a comment about it but he's still in the type of mood that needs reassurance. So he hangs on for now, both of them silent, in the place that brought them together, the place that became their sanctuary.

Their lives could be their own now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for coming along for the ride. I know this was a weird set-up and role-play fic can be hard to read sometimes, but I just needed to archive this whole story for posterity and to remind myself of the good times (like staying up all night just to RP one thread).
> 
> I'm not sure how much I'll be writing for Ed/Russell after this since I've been out of that fandom for too long but I'll definitely be posting for my other rare pair (Space Cases) at some point.
> 
> Also, I'm constantly bookmarking stuff here so check those out if you're looking for things to read!
> 
> <3 hazelbite


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